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B is for Blue Heron
With legs long
like a daddy spider,
she wades on stilts
through water lilies tatted
to the top of the river
then frees her wings
to become
a great butterfly
reflecting the dance of sun
like a silver laced kite
floating on a draft
then circling
slowly
earthward again.
first published in Bellowing Ark
Your poem takes me to another world--I'm that young, beautiful woman on your heading, floating off in dreams made by the magic of writing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Francene! It was a lovely gift to find your kind comment this morning.
DeleteThis conjures up beautiful images.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sarah
DeleteLove the imagery - very nice
ReplyDeleteThanks Mary
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