The Fisher King

The booby soars, a kite against the skies.
A mackerel, all sparkles, pulls its string.
Then, suddenly, a dive -- the fish denies
its predator the meal. The fisher king,
beak full of salty air, seeks newer heights,
and vantages that few will ever gain.
He rides the updraft, joins the other kites,
the mackerel, maneuvering, will feign
this way and that, its scales a shiny bait.
The booby searches, seeks the slightest glint,
each aerial maneuver tempting fate.
Fish caught and swallowed, then another stint.
The cove holds the relentless sea at bay.
I watch the play of predator and prey.