Hey there, shore bird, I will do you no harm.
I’m just out on my morning beach walk.
She’s leery, though, judging me, sizing me up
By my gender, my clothes, and my talk.
I swear I’m no jerk; I say live and let live.
I won’t dog you or clip your white wings.
But maybe she smells a slight whiff of Mitch stench
Or some trace of Kentucky House kings.
She walks quickly away from me, ready to fly
So afraid that I’ll mess with her fate.
This egret’s no bird-brain; she knows where I’m from.
She can tell it’s a trigger-law state.