The Preacher
The Preacher
Her pulpit
a rock
She perched on a delicate green
blanket of seaweed.
The ocean’s bounty trickles
upon her feet~~~
Her sermon, only
SILENCE
and she prepares for communion.
She waits, and waits, and waits.
Her eyes wide open~~~
her pupils scan for any motion…
Suddenly,
after all the waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
right there ‘bread.’
Her beak pummels through the water
‘broken’
a fish caught in her paired scissors
and blood flows onto her feathers.
Yes, death
A small fish sustains life.
The preacher digests only what is necessary
to ‘fill’ her belly.
As the sun rises,
she seems to bow her head in thanks~~~
In silence she no longer waits, and waits, and waits~~~
She is ‘full’
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