Tsunami waves of misunderstanding
surge from sea and overland,
destruction in their flow,
flotsam when they go.
But beneath blue sky,
the heron stands in pensive pose—
His thoughts? Who knows?
Warm-blooded, hollow-boned, his lungs
an ancient dinosaurs’ shifted gift, far-flung-DNA
stays. Life everlasting.
It’s quadrille Monday at dVerse. Lisa has asked us to use the word stand.