This morning by the river
I saw a Great Blue Heron.
Holding my breath
I stood still to this sight
bearing witness
to the Heron's great flight.
As tips of its wings
were grazing the surface
of fog-ridden rivers ahead
I awed at the drops
clinging heavy to the webs
of hundreds of thousands of spiders.
To let go of another summer.
Heart grateful for these legs, lungs
and eyes of wonder.
As blindly we fumble ahead
I get to remember
the very last sunrise of this September.
- 30. sept '26
Curio
pieces found.
cracks in the surface.
poetry of pause and notice.
deeply carved shadows.
tiles broken.
time shattered.
these words and those lovers.
picked and scattered.
cry in the wind,
in the brightness
of the days alive.
the only meaning it all will ever have
is hidden between the lines carved around our eyes.
/ 10 jan ‘26
