Poem 179 – Riverbank Sketches III: The Heron

Stood by his office window, the silent
partner waits, serene and straight.
Beneath his greying brows, two keen
and wizened eyes, gaze out.

He waits. And waits. And waits. Until
incisively he strikes; a single
dart with ballet dancer poise.
Replete, he struts away.

So often we almost walk past these ‘old men’ of the river without noticing they’re there. Such graceful birds.

© Ben Quant 2023

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