The Heron and the Blackbird

From under the bridge he gracefully flew,
startled by our sudden approach
his powerful wingspan stretching wide
like a ghost in a shroud, soaring high on hope

A swoosh, a frantic rush of air
as he pulled away from the flooding stream,
startling the blackbird feeding nearby,
singing his heart out, retelling his dream

So we paused, my labrador and I
to watch this miracle passing by

The blackbird took fright and flew to his tree,
Observing where the ghost had been.
When danger passed he ventured out
To eagerly search for worms in the green

The heron continued his fishing spree
And nature looked on at this wonder revealed….
An everyday coming together of birds,
both heron and blackbird at home in green fields

And we paused, my labrador and I
to watch this miracle passing by

-Margaret Royall

– photo by Jane Dougherty

Spring gone

I think I remember
the way the seasons rolled,
a great wheel turning slowly,
drawing up green shoots,

the way they unfurled into summer flags,
danced red and gold in autumn winds,
and lay quiet beneath the foggy winter trees.

I think I remember
green and damp and rain.

But the lurch of the machine,
no longer in control,
shakes the memories into the exhaust,
blown away like chaff.

-Jane Dougherty