H
e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s
b e r g
N
a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i
v e s E d i t i o n
BOB RIXON
A Common Egret
If I could turn my knees around,
stand patiently in
shallow water,
looping my long
snake-thin neck
as I stare at the dim shapes of small fish
I stir up with my feet, I would be
a white egret meditating on a meal
in the solitude of salt marshes.
You might see my head raised above
a field of reeds like a strong flower,
then disappear as I strike lightning fast
at the substance of a shadow.
If you look upon me too long, I feel
the hollowness of my stomach, then
unfolding my ungainly
wings, I lift myself
a few yards above & distant, to a
place
I imagine I am once again invisible.
You would do well to imitate me,
learn the art of
fishing
& mind your own business.
[Originally
published in NHS 2005, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs05/rob_rixon.html.]