They appear on this earth fully formed,
legs like iron rails and a beak capable
of splitting sandstone as they stand
ankle-deep waiting for a catfish or
a snake to enter their strike zone.
To be a heron means to never know
self-doubt or the need to belong to
any group. To be a heron is to gaze
all day long at your own reflection
in the mirror of the river and to see
yourself as you always have been
and always will be, and if a duck dares
come near to hit them with a look as
withering as a summer drought.
There may be baby herons hiding
somewhere in the reeds, but I
for one have never seen one.
No comments:
Post a Comment