The Kingfisher by Rick Barot

The Kingfisher by Rick Barot

I dream of kingfishers. Their heads big and unhandsome, like mine. Blue with a ruffled crest, as though just risen from bed, with the kohl-black eyes of the previous night. A dark dagger of a beak, to spear the small fish, the small creatures. White feathers over their stocky chests, over a patient heart. I dream of nests. The nest the kingfisher builds in the dirt, burrowing three feet, six feet, as though, like me, it had just lost a father an…