In the pantheon of the gray-padded sky, tears sprout.
That doesn't throw me off, to no one I mind-shout.
Enamored with the natural surroundings in the park.
Short chilly bursts, flutter my windbreaker on a lark.
This is too nippy for late Spring, granted, yet I'm energized.
Already within the landscape, wholly hypnotized.
Because here, the Great Blue Heron lands and folds up his wings.
In one choreographed motion, elegance sings.
Riveted, I halt my steps, rapt with attention.
His eye stares, I hope I'm making a good impression.
Rain begins pelting, neither of us seems to care.
The spell breaks, what lifts the heron now leaning on air?
Ten minutes of curious scrutiny ends in a jiffy.
Briefly he glides, skimming over the lake swiftly.
The whomp, whomp, wingbeats, a cloud of feathery grace.
Nature's poetry is my favorite online space.
Some would call this day dreary and full of gloom.
If you could've been there, it's the perfect start to June!
©Donna H.
June 1, 2025
(Text/Bilder)
That doesn't throw me off, to no one I mind-shout.
Enamored with the natural surroundings in the park.
Short chilly bursts, flutter my windbreaker on a lark.
This is too nippy for late Spring, granted, yet I'm energized.
Already within the landscape, wholly hypnotized.
Because here, the Great Blue Heron lands and folds up his wings.
In one choreographed motion, elegance sings.
Riveted, I halt my steps, rapt with attention.
His eye stares, I hope I'm making a good impression.
Rain begins pelting, neither of us seems to care.
The spell breaks, what lifts the heron now leaning on air?
Ten minutes of curious scrutiny ends in a jiffy.
Briefly he glides, skimming over the lake swiftly.
The whomp, whomp, wingbeats, a cloud of feathery grace.
Nature's poetry is my favorite online space.
Some would call this day dreary and full of gloom.
If you could've been there, it's the perfect start to June!
©Donna H.
June 1, 2025
(Text/Bilder)
