Do you remember when we saw the egret?
Not in the bird sanctuary where we looked for it,
but a few miles away, standing in a ditch.
We were just shy of lost, on one of those
scenic routes you always took. Snowy Egret!
I shouted at the dazzling flash of white.
You did a u-turn while I flipped
to the E-section of my book,
consulted a color-coded map
and found out that bird doesn’t live here.
Regret is like eating gravel, so much useless grit.
I looked back once and saw it,
awkward and solemn,
lifting off over the brown field.
Meredith Mason lives in Appleton, Wisconsin. She writes and reads poetry to stay sane (at least somewhat) and to glimpse the truth. She has had poems published in Verse Wisconsin and the Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar. She has self-published two poetry chap books, Poetry Experiment and Small Things, available through Blurb.com. She teaches poetry at Renaissance School for the Arts and spends most of her time raising two small sons.