He was bored

Carol Mangis

	He was bored
	and needed to do something
	with his hands, so he captured
	an egret, white as clover
	   stepping its delicate path across
	     a weedy marsh.
	He bought rose-colored silk and thin sticks,
	  built two wings, hinged like those of bats;
	    gently removed the egret’s real wings
	      from its shivering torso
	and attached the silk wings
	    to the egret’s body.
        Now it resembled a prehistoric creature, something
	  out of a nightmare swamp, odd yet still
            beautiful. 
	The egret tested its new wings slowly, awkwardly,
	 but then gathered its grace around it like a shawl
	       and winged
	     away, across the weedy marsh.
	He watched it go and
          didn’t know
            what to do next.