Tyrannidae

I remember white paper birch

bullheads and miniature perch

off the end of a dock

on Long Lake.

That white headed eagle soaring

soaring

soaring

beyond the furthest red and white bobber

plucking a keeper

before my astonished eyes.

I remember his white puffy hat,

like an Amanitas-

a chef in the wilderness,

out of place, an unheeded

warning.

Plastic one gallon ice cream buckets

filling with clams

symmetrical mollusks

felt with toes

and dug from the mud.

I remember him calling-

stepping out of the water

my silty wrinkled toes

the dark cavity in the rooty tree

and white-faced hornets stinging.

I remember the Chef,

the Destroying Angel,

his flycatcher recipe-

he’s a preacher now

preaching

preaching

still serving barbs and scree.