Morning Air

A blue heron soars above the surface of the lake
egrets and ibises dot the water's edge and
an ibis launches, chasing the heron
two birds fly overhead in tandem
I have no chance to see what type of birds
they are fast but they are the same
and their shape and color resemble kites
Across the lake an egret lifts off
from a branch in the cypress dome
and flies right toward my kitchen window
turning suddenly and sweeping back around the lake

I feel like I am looking into rather than out at

The sun is beginning to rise over the trees
lighting their broccoli tops and reflecting
them down onto the glassy lake
their skinny brown stalks in the shadow
Two ripples appear down below
never breaking the surface or
making an appearance
just circles expanding outward

There's an airshow
two egrets fly in a playful chase
landing lakeside in the wispy grass
they flutter about and retreat
high into the preserve
More blue herons soar, three or four
from front of the lake to the back
and the side of the lake to the tree tops
I sip my coffee and nibble on zucchini bread
from the best seat in the house
the one in front of the window.

Red Lobster in Some Town

I could feel her looking at me. You know the feeling. When you're not even looking, but you don't need to, because you know someone is staring right at you. I looked over the partition, separating my  booth from theirs. Yes, I was alone and she had a companion. She quickly looked away, trying to appear nonchalant. She was so transparent. I turned back to my meal and continued eating while her stare bored into me once again. I looked over, she looked away barely in time to avoid eye contact. We repeated this visual cat-and-mouse several times. Did she think I didn't notice her? She was either uncouth or dumb, because next I heard her dogging my meal choice to her companion. I'm not sure if she didn't realize I could hear, or if she just didn't care. I was alone and there was no talking at my table. Maybe it gave her a false sense of insulation.

"Uh, there's so much work." Her hands were flailing as she spoke. "Pulling and cracking and working. I don't know how people order..." She was talking about my crab legs. So fucking rude. Did she not realize I could hear her? I wiped my hands and my face with the napkin from my lap, and I stood up, looking in her direction. I waited for her to look back. And when she did, this time I looked right at her instead of turning away uncomfortably...

You want to know why I ordered them? Maybe it's because Red Lobster sucks and I'm only here because the only other choices in this shit town are fast food. Maybe it's because fried popcorn shrimp and dishes that all have "feast" in their names are not my idea of an enjoyable meal. Maybe a meal that's an activity is a way to kill a little time during a lonely dinner on the road. Maybe ordering crab legs was the only way I could keep myself from inhaling the unnecessary basket of four cheddar biscuits brought to my table for one. Maybe, just maybe, things worth having are worth working for.

I snickered to myself as I placed the napkin on the table and walked to the restroom to wash up. I glanced back at her thinking, "If only."