• Reading time:1 mins read

This in an old poem way before 2014

Though the kingfishers looked
So beautiful; specks of shocking blue
Against the dead green and dark water.
They chased each other like in love —
And you said, “they are us.”
But what I saw was food
Clenched in a beak and
The chase was not love
But hunger

Their blue so fleeting,
ordinary but bright
perhaps just birds hungry
finding food and surviving.
love not here but within us
mistaken for passion
and base

What they left in me was experience.
never forgotten
unlike the awkward moment of disclosure
when we saw different things
and perhaps it was not food
but material to build on love
the falsehood of feeling to
perpetuate the breed

for without the passion there
would be nothing.