Gert Strydom
The bird
We were walking in the park,
our little zoo of dogs and you and me.
One was splashing in the stream,
swimming like a huge black beaver,
the little one barked from the bank
as if encouraging and telling the others what to do,
one was sniffing the trees, looking for a spot
as if surprised at what she got,
one was looking out for other people
as if someone could suddenly draw a knife
and come challenging with it
staying aware as if guarding us
and then a bird came out of nowhere,
appeared in the air above me,
decided that my head
was a great place to rest
and at the last moment fluttered up
changing landing orders to that of flight.
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