Commander’s Call

 

Evenings, the egrets return to base,
cruising in squadron formation.
At dawn, they deploy,
each to its own post.
But, early one day,
two dozen convened by our pond,
lighting in adjacent trees,
to hear the day’s ops plan.
From the topmost branch,
the Colonel briefed Alpha Flight,
then swooped to the other tree
to dispatch Bravo.
Orders acknowledged,
all launched, save the Colonel,
who glided gracefully down,
took command of the shallows,
and began solitary patrol.

Copyright ©2020, Paul H. Harder II
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.