The Professor

The Quiet Angler of Country Ponds

He stands there
Just like a professor.
In blue-gray
So tall and so thin.
His stride is quite
Slow and deliberate.
I’ve known many
Men just like him.
His wings both
Behind him for balance.
His neck craning
Forth in some search.
And so keenly fixed,
His attention.
This could be his
Classroom or church.
His stilt-like, gold
Limbs raise no ripple.
His beaky head
Slightly askew.
The pond’s mirrored
Surface reflection
Takes of this great
Bird, and makes two.
Then stops his stiff
Perambulation.
Long neck and beak
Flash in the sun.
To raise in a
Silvery splatter,
His fish breakfast,
Expertly won.