Sunday 22 June 2014

Sunday Poem

THE ASCENSION OF SQUACCO HERON 
Vagrant dewdrop drips
along elongated head feathers
as wings press air. A great quiet
thudding, trickle of marshy feet
rising up out of reeds.
There in the space between—
breath and sigh; sunlight
and fire: transcendence in flight:
tawny-orange goes sudden-white
and beyond shallow water, nothing
but sky, and sky, and this
crested bird’s rough calling cry.
From As if a Raven (Palimpsest, 2014) by Yvonne Blomer

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