Eastern Kingbirds

Eastern Kingbirds

Dietrich Balsbaugh 

Small glints in the evening sun
and the kingbirds know what is here:
A hatch of flies darting up the river
doing their best to hide in the shadows.

With joy the birds drop from the trees,
fanning out wings in the waning light
like the banners of an ancient king.
They know the hunt is on, a feast prepared.

They are huge to the flies, who zigzag
in terror but do not see them coming,
big black shapes that loom up over the sun
and swallow them whole in an instant.

In all it is a show of mastery,
and there is something relentless in the kingbirds’ souls
as they turn and wheel down on their prey
who are made to look like novices in flight.

The hunt continues long into the evening,
and I begin to think it a wonderful death:
to be pursued by wings which you cannot escape
until they devour you in the golden flames of sunset.

---

Dietrich Balsbaugh 
Poet & Banking Analyst

Dietrich's poems have appeared Veritas Journal. He lives in South Bend, IN, where he enjoys birding, reading, and taking walks by the river with his wife.

Photography by Vadim Sadovski