Cattle Egret

The whitish bird,
Soon in the midst of a herd:
One, two and, soon, a third ….
Partly there to supervise their curd,
Fractionally, to catch their navigating word;
Sometimes around pacing like their king,
While their “moos” in its ears ring.

But chiefly the Egret is visiting a dining table,
Of which a reaching it is capable:
Easily, a pecking pouncing on the parasites.
That their dung-smeared bodies have chosen as sites.

At this, forever,
The ingeniously clever,
Neat-looking Cattle Egret,
Doesn’t an unhygienic meal regret.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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