Sentry no more
the heron takes to wing,
sudden, powerful beat
and feathers fly.
From downy soft
to steely wing,
transmutation,
in the wink
of an observing eye.
In economical paddling
this vessel-bird
sets sail
and ships its leggy oars.
The lord of deep skies
and prince
of river, pond and lake -
he knows no bound or boundary.
Elemental realms
recognise his mastery
and bend their laws
beneath agile supremacy.
You do not rush away
but stir the air in frugal strokes,
rising like a well mixed bake
of some delicious delicacy.
And then you are gone
too soon,
too far, for eye to capture,
encompass, or trap with light
as grey and white you meld
with the cloudy deep of the sky.
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