clcouch123

Low-Flying

Slowly the manta ray

Unfolds and undulates

Descending, like an eagle

Of the air, through

Updrafts of ocean water

What it seeks I cannot

See, because its urgencies

Are defined so differently

Fill hunger?  Slake thirst

That, in water, I cannot

Apprehend?

Or fly for delight in flight,

Ripping, tearing through

Sea currents, even while

Negotiating their fury

Can I fly as slowly as the

Ray?  Must I?

Two ways of asking this,

I know: Must I not?  Must

I not?

May I?  And, if so,

Will I?

How much of creatures’

Movements, I wonder,

Depend on will