The kingfisher,
A blur of iridescent blue and orange,
Hovered like some predatory humming bird
A hands breadth above the slow incoming tide,
Which swirled itself into eddies, a dancer searching for space.
And the kingfisher, seemingly caught in some invisible net
Or maybe just encapsulated in a bubble of air,
Was as still as fluttering wings allow.
And I was its witness, land heavy and in awe.
It’s departure was swift as if some careless hand had burst the bubble.
Falling like a stone, plunging fearlessly out of the air
And into the water, to emerge seconds later, a silver fish in its beak,
Water droplets falling from its feathers like luminescent rain.
Then it was gone, a blur of iridescent blue and orange
And I, its witness remained land heavy and in awe.
Trudie Shannon
