Pencil Stubs Online
Egret Crossing A Pond
John I. Blair
As I pass this receding shore
A curl of mud links pond to land,
Mint-scented flowers shed their seed,
The dusty grasses dance and bend
Beneath a breath of summer wind.
And the whitest egret ever seen
Unfurls its wings and sails, drifts, glides
Cleanly to the other side,
There folding back to a silent pose,
Aching beauty with fatal intent.
©2005 John I. Blair
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