AN ORNITHOLOGIST CONSIDERS THEIR REFLECTION

A different bird appears every time 
I glimpse at my reflection in a puddle:
The brilliant light of a Brazilian white bellbird.
Its 125.4 decibel sound is enough to scissor the sky.
Sometimes, the cane heads of mallard ducks,
or puffins with clownfish beaks, donned in pierrot 
make-up. Rarely, herons or bower birds. 
The knitted anatomy of their nests always impresses.
A swan’s hourglass neck sometimes comes
after a downpour. I pretend I’m a runway model,
and observe its elegance from multiple angles.
A peregrine falcon’s regal reflection makes me bow
quicker than their sonic boom. The sky shaded eyes
of a Philippine Eagle, almost as big as a man,
makes me pause in awe. The superb bird of paradise,
being the perfect shade of night, make every crow 
and blackbird jealous. Red cardinals frighten me: 
their feathers are borrowed from sunsets stained with wildfires. 
How they could burn. How much could burn.

Christian Ward is a UK-based writer who has recently appeared in Rappahannock Review, South Florida Poetry Journal, The Dewdrop, Dodging the Rain, The Seventh Quarry, Dipity Literary Magazine, Indian Periodical, and Streetcake Magazine. His first poetry collection, Intermission, is out now on Amazon.