What the Welsh and Chinese Have In Common

Essay In Political Science

All day the ibis stalk in eel grass,

their legs gauging moon's pull

on the marsh. Even if we wished,

we could not force them

to gather. They disperse

more evenly than their prey.

Occasionally, fish pool

just beneath one of them

or a nest of turtles boils

open with young. Still they honor

territory. If they compete

they do so warily, without

gaggle of gull or dive of hawk.

The tilt of one's beak conforms to the weave

of grasses. Another seems wingless

as it stands like a strange knot

of tuffed reed. When they rise,

each choosing its own time,

light softens as if rough gauze

drapes the sky. Now the dark

condenses them. The mangrove lump

which in daylight confused our view

whitens as they disguise the branches.

The entire marsh appears reduced

to a solitary ibis at low tide.

Here by the rookery, I want to turn to you

and talk about the value of nations,

but already the ibis are only vaguely luminous.

As their voices quiet,

we hear a meek quaver

tremble through the reeds

with the restless hesitation

of an old woman alone at night.

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