kingfisher

poem by Ruth Salles

kingfisher,
flying, flying,
already lands on the branch
and wait until when
the fish appears
in the river that descends.

“Chi-i! Whoa!”
There it goes through the air
and arrow the little fish,
then go to dinner
with one more prey
for dessert.

kingfisher,
Martinha too,
go see the puppies
in the nest they have.
It's seven, it's seven
wanting to eat.
larvae, insects
Mom will bring it.
And make a ciranda
inside the nest,
and wait for dinner
opening the pout.

***