flying beyond the coastal meadow
he licked his thumb and stuck it
directly overhead
his eyes rolled back and calculating
and just then a wheatear
sitting atop a stone wall
takes to flight
leading the way
tiny feet trampled upon the greenest
of the greenest grass
at least three feet tall
tiny legs scissoring through the field
giving chase to the wheatear
cameras clicked and videos rolled
as the children from the bus
raced past the field
and onto the beach
and splashing into the ocean
the lone wheatear
flying past the lighthouse
gone but not forgotten
august two thousand sixteen
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