Poetry · Poem
Looking at a Great Blue Heron
An appreciation of stillness on the Gulf Coast in late winter.
It stands upon a single jointed leg in the shallow flats of Sarasota, whiter than the bleached coquina.
The eye is gold, a tiny bead that registers the silver flash of minnows in the seagrass meadow.
Then the strike: a sudden javelin, a splash of water, and the bird swallows the day whole.