Pondering Heron

by Aidan Andrew Dun

heron
 

The pensioner heron
in old grey coat
shrugs thin shoulders
at the world.

Weary, he has seen
all things afloat;
now he yawns
with a wing unfurled.

Should he fly with
great beak proud
pointing ahead to
where alders shroud

The river bend
or should he stay here?
This is the difficult
question, unclear.

But nobody cares
pays much attention,
another solitary
geriatric figure

Elicits only
a confident snigger
from the world at large:
no apprehension.

But then the stab!
The lightning beak’s
found the tender
thing it seeks.

 
heron 2
 
 
 

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