The first surprise is a wooded walk
I find in the middle of an industrial park –
a gazebo, a small pond, some wildflowers.

The second surprise is the heron,
nearly still, a long slip of white
in the very center of the pond.
Head cocked, he eyes the water
and the creatures beneath the surface,
candidates for lunch.

His long neck whips down
and snakes back up,
empty beak dripping,
the pond radiating eddies
from where he slashed the water.
I am so transfixed,
I forget my own meal,
in a brown paper bag
hanging from my hand.

He hears my footfalls,
not stealthy enough,
and turns toward me,
watching warily with both eyes.
He is so slender, that quite literally,
he almost disappears.
In the quiet, I can almost hear his heartbeat,
three times the speed of mine.

For another moment he freezes,
a punctuation mark in the pond,
then decides I pose no immediate threat,
and returns to his vigilant buffet.
I have barely made a ripple in his routine.
He could stand there all afternoon,
waiting for just the right fish.

I realize that time has slipped past me
and I am due back at work.
As I walk back with my uneaten lunch,
I take my time.


[Thanks to Jason Crespo for his critique on this work.]

08/09/2002

Posted on 08/09/2002
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt