The kingfisher

Nothing bit this evening,

but I felt once more a rare emotion.

As I held my pole with line out,

a kingfish landed on it.

There is no more striking bird.

It seemed like a giant blue flower

at the end of a long stem.

The pole bent under its weight.

I dared not breathe, proud to have been taken

for a tree by a kingfisher.

And I was certain that he did not take off from fear,

but because he believed he was only passing

from one branch to another.