Poetry by John Grey
A dazzle of blue
skirts the green-water pond,
merges with a fish
in its squat beak.
He is a king.
No other bird sits so squat,
so regally, on a tree branch.
And a fisher of course.
His catch is inhaled
neatly down his gullet.
He flies off
and other birds arrive
in his wake.
They land
in a wave of salutations,
in a homage
to his feathery crown.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, River And South and Tenth Muse. Latest books Subject Matters, Between Two Fires, and Covert are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Paterson Literary Review, White Wall Review and Cantos.
