The Heron

A Heron

Flies low over my house

Limbs tucked under

Wings beating ever so slowly and rhythmically

Neck outstretched

Focused on my dam

As if tired and relieved

On the last leg of a long journey

It spreads its wings wide

Glides gently in a smooth arc

Ripples onto the dam’s glasslike surface

Settles

And rests

© Tony Sevil 2014