Christine Lowther photo
Heron,
you once soared the skies,
perched in treetops,
picky-toed along the mudflats
in search of a meal.
you once soared the skies,
perched in treetops,
picky-toed along the mudflats
in search of a meal.
Now the tide
has brought in
what is left of you:
two feathered wings,
still connected,
the rest of you washed away.
has brought in
what is left of you:
two feathered wings,
still connected,
the rest of you washed away.
How did your end come?
I hope it was peaceful,
swift, before you knew
you were leaving
this world
you loved.
I hope it was peaceful,
swift, before you knew
you were leaving
this world
you loved.
In silence,
we spread your wings,
extended them
as they were in life,
so your spirit could
fly free.
we spread your wings,
extended them
as they were in life,
so your spirit could
fly free.
Makes me think of the time this summer when I was cutting grass and noticed something black in the grass by the ditch. It was a big wing of some bird....probably our rooster that had gone missing and ran up against a predator. They have wings but can't fly for shit!
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