Reegrets

The reegrets stood like statues in the marsh, staring with their beady eyes, pointing with their pointed beaks, one leg folded up beneath like landing gear.

The reegets gave no sense of why they were there, no hoot or cry of ridicule, no dance of protestation designed to blame or shame or split a hair.

No, the reegrets were simple beasts, their silent stance, their unwavering glare, a cold portent of what now can never be.