Photo by S. Auberle

HERON IN WINTER

I saw her today,

blue on blue on blue

ice, sky, bird.

She was stepping slowly

onto the frozen pond,

and how, you may ask,

do I know the bird was female? 

It was just a look,

a topknot of feathers

ruffled in the cold,

the way she stood so still

as I passed near.

There seemed a connection

(a poet’s fancy, no doubt)

of eggs and nests and nurture

a connection in the season

when bird and woman

must leave safe ground,

step out onto that place

where our old faces

shine back at us,

new and full of light,

though we feel unsure

but strong, because

it’s what we have to do,

sometimes, to survive.

The sky is a mirror

beneath our long legs

but oh, beautiful sister,

where will you sleep tonight?

~  mimi

an old favorite from Crow Ink...