Fishing with an Osprey
Knee deep in the turquoise ocean
of the National Seashore
at White Crest Beach in August
beneath a cerulean sky,
I waited for waves worth riding.
I felt a nip at my shin
and peered down into the murky spray
suddenly frothing around me.
The blues were running!
Get the hell out! My friend called. They’ll eat you alive!
I skipped back to shore
where we watched in wonder
as the water keened with life—
a thousand fish swimming and leaping before us.
Then I caught the shadow of a bird,
wings as wide as I am tall,
darkening the sand at my feet.
I glanced up at the beak
and white belly of an osprey.
He flew straight out from my line of vision,
dove and plucked a beautiful silver-blue fish
right out of the school
and wheeled back in a graceful arc
to perch with his feast
on the edge of the dunes.
For a brief sluice in time,
I felt as if I’d flown and fished with him.
—
Ed Meek is the author of four books of poetry and a collection of short stories. His most recent book is High Tide. He has had poems in The Paris Review, The Sun, The Baltimore Review, and Plume.
