Arriving at Wakamatsu Farm early for Indigenous Peoples’ Day, I walked the trail along pond’s edge the way the egret flew.
The Pond This Morning
Egret wings its morning song
low across the water, rising, surveying
wetland before settling high
in a ghost pine farther east. Bird of light and
hungers. This bird I’m thankful
to see each time I visit, from a distance –
my human distance. What can
I know of an egret’s hungers? The pond is
a blessing, breathing in slight
ripples, patterns ever changing. Dragonfly
over water. I see flight
as a thanks-song, a query, a request – or
dare I call it a prayer?
I’m lost in my human words for this morning.
~ Taylor Graham
