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Poem

I wanted it to be an egret. 
It most probably was not an egret, 
but the word and the bird 
seemed one and the same 
as I stood alone by the willow 
and watched it do a 200 foot kamikaze dive 
into the water and disappear. 
Suicide always baffled and eluded me. 
We’re all kamikazes. 
In our finite time we rush headlong into life 
until we crash and burn. Then a whisper in my ear, 
“not with a bang, but a whimper.” 
Egret sounds so much like regret. 
Was this the feeling 
that was coursing through me now? 
I stared blankly at the water, feeling hollow. 
The bird surfaced and flew away with a fish. 
He had merely been dining out. 
He was another beautiful predator. 
An oxymoron like us all. 
I left my thoughts of suicide 
and returned to acting naturally.

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