Waiting at the Side of the Pond
I watch as he waits for death–his white body crouched over, shoulders hunched, still as the death he is about to impose. Of a sudden, he springs from his crouch, snatches his prey and soars on high, a flash of silver squirming in his beak.
Not long ago, I also watched for death—not the kind I would inflict, but one that would afflict me. And so did a friend across the pond, the big one. And, now, one across the continent. Its coming is inevitable, whether anticipated with hope or dread. It is inevitable.
early morning watch
egret fleeing winter climes
feeds on silver hope
Today is Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets and the theme is waiting. Hope to see you there.