The Great Blue Heron arches like a low flying comet
but sentient, able to stall, a living parachute,
touching down with grace normally attributed to swans
on the impossible runway of hills cradling his watering place.
If I could, I would be a heron. Who else
is an angel, a glider,
an arrow, a descending leaf,
a steady tree, water-rooted cattail,
spear fisher, all of these
and none? Who is the color of
distant storm-clouds and gravity
but so fiercely serene, so
defiantly light?
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