Selleck's Woods Beside I-95
I sit on a boulder at lake's edge
to sirens, horns, and motorcycles' revving
as an osprey soars into view. He squares his 5-foot wingspan
to shape himself a parachute, then sails down feet first.
Eight dives he plunges into the water,
plus two surface skims and one last minute change of plans,
before a second osprey joins the fish hunt.
Over and over, every full-bodied effort denied,
I know this by the way they float in their failure.
But then they shake it off, dowse themselves in cold water
and pump their wings for lift off.
As they gain height, always a second shake mid-air,
the heaviness of water and regret flung off their feathers,
before they circle back around – hungry
to dive in again.
Lisa Meserole teaches music and movement to young children in Connecticut. This summer she will be one of the Edwin Way Teale Artists-in-Residence at Trail Wood. Her poems have previously appeared in Connecticut River Review, Earth's Daughters, Green Hills Literary Lantern, The Healing Muse, Illya's Honey, and Shot Glass Journal.