The bird is thriving – in the narrow inlets
below the house – on small crustaceans
at low tides. The other, however,
though acclaimed by garden centres throughout
the northern hemisphere for its hardiness,
and placed with pride beside the driveway here,
is withering in the frequent, salty winds,
its fronds becoming a papery yellow.
Too tedious to tease out teacher-like
all the parables and allegories this
particular tree and this particular
animal might be made to feature in –
as if they were responsible for their lot.
So, Sister Egret, Brother Palm, although
your ancestors were originally
natives of more fragrant, southerly climes,
unlike mine, we are where we are.
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By David Selzer