The egret stands on stiff, still legs. By contrast, its neck is coiled into a sinuous strike position. For a long time, only its eyes move, saccading in time with the darting prey below the water's mirrored surface. The egret plays shrub, hoping to lure tiny fish into its shadow, within striking distance of its flexible neck. the egret stands, moving only its eyes... then spears water
the glint in the eye
makes it look round and lustrous,
though it’s a moth wing
a murder of crows
congregates on the concrete,
and I feel angst.
sure, I’m smarter than a crow…
but smarter than the murder?
Struggling to wiggle its wings, the butterfly warms in the morning sun. Is it like sleep paralysis - that hypnopompic impulse to flee that's stymied by stuck muscles? What's a wind gust or rapidly advancing shadow like for the butterfly? Normally, such occurrences would provoke an erratic fluttering away. But now the screaming instinct to wing away can't be answered. Does the butterfly know dread, or does it just quietly await the moment it's unfrozen? cool morning - a butterfly twitches, but can't yet fly
the buzzing bee zips flower to flower, spurning perfect blooms
Tiger Riding for Beginners 