I think this week we'll have a bit of a Sarasota locale
Myakka State Park
A bird, heron, egret, osprey, I don’t know,
nameless those who live and unnumbered those who die here,
the bird wades in air, suspended over silver-gray waters,
while his elegant, white, impassive sister, cranelike
in repose, secrets herself in a blind of green reeds.
A few feet away, the thin leathered crest of alligator
head rises, shatters the brooding glimmerglass
serenity of unaccompanied bird calls. He is pursued
by the dogged tourist boat- out one more time for
the nine who came too late for the scheduled ride.
Deceptive liquid beauty of sea and sky, this pocket Eden.
I, in the painted green wooden boat, turn to look at you.
A storm rises, washes over us, catches us unawares-
those of us trapped in God’s fishbowl- the egret, the alligator and I.
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