The Great Blue Heron

The great blue heron, common on the Island Is a refugee from dirty water, Not liking pollutants in the cold soup She fishes for nourishment and flavour.

Look at the way she stands, as jokers say With just one foot at a time in the water, Counting herself a delicate creature Subject to chills, although I've not seen her Shift her stance from one leg to another To disturb perfection in her figure Surreally drawn, as if with a few strokes.

The chatter and movement of other bird Sorts are not for her. Still as space she looks Between her toes for fish, and when she moves The lightning is more sudden than the stroke She makes, I guess. Or if dissatisfied With the place she's taken she takes up One limb by ineffable precision So that not a ripple is much altered Then puts it down, commences progression With attention to each carefully poised step.