This previously unpublished poem comes courtesy of my mother, Joyce Kennedy, a regular walker at Wood Lake Nature Center. Joyce took yesterday's photo, too, making a reprise today. Many thanks!
NINE GREAT EGRETS
make a surprise appearance
at dusk on the pond by the path
we are accustomed to walking.
Oh, our good luck! In dissolving light,
they are bright white forms of length and curl.
They move on stilted legs.
Their long necks stretch and bend.
Their long beaks dip casually
into darkening water. Slight breeze.
Bird voices in the surrounding trees
are down to murmur, sweet little
chips of sound. In the distance,
the busy roar of freeway. Like
the egrets, we choose not to listen.
We will carry this scene home with us.
Nine Great Egrets will be lodged
within a sanctuary of our minds.
To be themselves, not metaphor.
.jpg)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment