Cormorant – by Kathryn Jordan

                                                              There’s a tension between what we ask
                                               of life and what life asks of us.
                    – David Whyte

They might have call for blame but I did all
I could by my children; now it’s a question
of what comes unbidden. The shiny sardine
flapping in the cormorant’s bill will be tossed,
glittering silver, into long throat, becoming
cormorant on the way down. Not far away,
bald eagle on branch, hushed as stone, gaze
taking in all things hidden in pond and grass.
She seems to make her decision, then swoops
silent over the lowland. Walking in fresh dawn,
a possum sprawled by the road, mouth wide,
tiny teeth exposed, palm open, claws spread
in a gesture I can’t help but name prayer.

Kathryn JordanKathryn Jordan is a retired choral music teacher from Berkeley, CA. The recipient of the San Miguel de Allende Writers Conference Poetry Prize and the Sidney Lanier Poetry Award, Kathryn’s poems also earned Honorable Mention, Special Merit and finalist for 2021 Steve Kowit Poetry Prize, Muriel Craft Bailey Prize, and Patricia Dobler Poetry Award. Her poems can be found at The Sun, The Atlanta Review, Comstock Review and New Ohio Review, among others. Her chapbook, Riding Waves, can be ordered from Finishing Line Press. Her website is” thank you very much for reading!