A lady brought me a Least Bittern
wrapped in her skirt. She woke this morning
to find it perched on her bedpost.
It stuck its beak up in the air
and tried to pretend it was a reed,
a trick that works well on the marsh
but not so well in a lady’s bedroom.
“I’d only left my window open
a crack,” she said, “but there it was.”
It didn’t struggle much, scream,
or foul the cloth. (They usually do.)
It posed, beak up, and didn’t budge
for ninety minutes while I sketched it.
Then, an experiment of sorts:
I set up books two inches apart
and jabbed the bird with a pencil.
Between my Gray’s Anatomy
and a large red book about Brazil,
it strolled like a lord on his way to town.
I moved them closer-an inch apart.
The bird was wonderful! It marched right through!
When I killed it, I found its breast
two and a quarter inches wide.
Bedamned if I know what to make of that.
Audubon Examines a Bittern
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