RiverMuse

Mascara feather line, a brutal chic
Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms;
Of feminine steel greys to echo skies,
black beady eyes, piercing the idle drift,
waiting for a fin to fade,
in silver quiver, below the glide.

A vase neck, swiftly graceful stoop
this well balanced stealth
dispensing death from elegant disguise.
O melancholy bird!
Standing by the margin of a pool
like a ghost or a sad mien,
all day stalking in the violet shades ;

Like a poet's secret desires be claimed
She sunk in her battered wings
which she wore like a hunchback's coat
Soft tracing eloquence,
Of feathered love.
While the swift winds, streamed overhead
and the creek's wavelets babble below.

My heron haunt has just begun
Whose ghost are you?
Whose names have you etched on these marshland?
And she rose upon the mist and died amid the clouds
Soon uttered a cry -
I'm a series of victories small
and large defeats
I'm amazed to run my clan
Over and again .

NG.2021🍁