A Momentary Savior
The seagull hovers over the old wooden pier.
It carries a clam claimed from the mud
of shallow shores downstream.
The bird knows just how high it must be,
adjusting itself to drop the shell,
and crack it open. Dinner.
Trial and error, now imprinted in its DNA.
has made the Wiley old bird a dependable murderer.
The collection of broken shells on the pier
attest to his skill.
You can see his confidence as he adjusts his height
to just so, the same place in space every time,
repeatable, perfect killing. Nature at work.
Fine dining at its best.
As the bird prepares to drop its shell,
you wave your arms. Startled,
the blood swings towards the see and
drops his dinner. You watch it fall
and plop into the waves. Saved for the moment.
You know as soon as you leave,
the mangy bird will return to his dinner table,
fresh shellfish on the menu. Nothing will have changed
except for that one clam,
About this poem
A lot of us feel overwhelmed these days. But there is something we can all do, no matter how small, that makes a difference.
Never underestimate that power.