The Egret Floating
I was suddenly back in bristles
when I saw the egret floating,
a stretched spline thrown down
or just knocked off. The threat
was to crack my code,
that back and forth convention
of the highway. From that throne
of all-leaned-back, the chute
Now a huge, drowsy brood
of snowies spangles the cove;
now the self falls absent from the car.
An unbroken seed-head.
Shoots tossed outward. A solar
system. To build planets here,
one forms galactically internal legalese.
The willows go mass-hysterical,
dragging their bodies down.
There is a teeter, and talk somewhere
of legal easement, and then a flush
of waves. Then it’s time
to stirrup in and lean.
I am racing along. I am in the current.
I am knee-deep not stirring up the water.
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Comments about this poem (The Egret Floating by C.J. Sage )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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