My friend Fayette took me to Bombay
Hook where trees were all
filled up with weighing-down snowy egrets.
How they fit in among limbs
kind of reminded me of
blown-off-the-line pillowcases caught in briars or,
or those plastic bags
that clog fish nets. My question for Fayette was when
do the trees come and go.
Off hand, she couldn't say, she's not an arborist, so she
threw up her arms
in the traditional I-don't-know fashion and not surprisingly
the egrets did too,
and then so did the trees. 

Charles Springer has degrees in anthropology and is an award-winning painter. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he is published in the small presses. He currently writes from the family homestead in Pennsylvania and dreams of living near the ocean.