Oh, Heron
flying with a neck
turned inward toward the uniform
of the clean and white pressed feathers,
and the elegant way you swoop
down and pierce the fish that is yours.
Oh, Heron to be pricked from the water
and placed in the folds of the elephant's skin: molded
into the wrinkly gray: an odd place to be, where we all
will be:
Navigating between the dark
and the light.
