The Kingfisher

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A sudden vivid flash electric blue

so swiftly straight more sensed than seen,

streaking burrow-wise from his grey branch lookout

over the dark olive green lake water.


So fragile no halcyon days are his,

unable to command the creek or river water,

and inexpert divers are the fledglings

often waterlogged and trapped in weed or twigs.


Suffering from our pollution-producing habits,

poisoned through their watercreature food,

why call this tiny jewel-like being 'halcyon'

which lives a life so very fraught?



◄ Limericks for May 12th

Waylaid on the road to Jericho ►


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Hannah Collins

Wed 3rd Jun 2020 18:40

Beautiful but sad, the bird and the poem.
Nature is amazing.
I do love to see the birds fly.


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jennifer Malden

Thu 28th May 2020 16:06

Thanks Philipos- that was quick work! Only seen 3 in a long life, although I never went looking for them. Apparently the young have a very high mortality rate, as they aren't really swimmers, just in and out so to speak.

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Thu 28th May 2020 16:02

Aren't they gorgeous? Loved the poem. P

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