What could be more antithetical than
An egret flapping alone across our parking lot?
The egret’s all elegance and sinuosity,
Spotless, soft, antediluvian grace;
The parking lot’s all brittle concrete,
Stamped steel, stone, sterility.
Yet for the egret the hot air rising
From the pavement helps it stay aloft;
And for the parking lot—well, with
An egret for our eyes, why care?
©2004 John I. Blair