The Radio Poems

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.