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Brief Escape From Faults of the World

By Anne Marx / September 6, 1989



In this sheltered island spot, a needed retreat, I sit near a turquoise-blue inlet quietly to separate my turmoil from crowds. Venturing out I spot the soft-curving white of a motionless egret my eyes hug until sunset. Too soon my nightly defeat: no longer fit to combat mosquitos, I must retreat, meet people, not seeming upset. Next morning, I cannot catch sight of my faultless friend. A motorboat churns up deep waves of regret. I long for the white egret.

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