Heron

               Heron   

      Wing beat sloppy slow
      I watch a soft grey
        heron go
            gently over
                      my patio.

      With upright stance
      and spindly knees
        herons roost
          in high trees,
              harmoniously,
                   in heronries.

       When first light ruffles
      dove down morning dress
      they rise like wedding guests
      and go their separate ways,

           leaving little signs
          turned neatly round
              that simply say:

                Gone Fishing.
                    All day.




Editor's Pick/Featured Work at Poetrycircle.com 1/2014