The Heron on the Weir
written by: Alyson Faye
Like an angle-poise lamp
he stands, a youngling
fragile-boned
hooked beak
grey on grey;
weir waters –
froth spittles the air
the rushing gush
a noisy boiling torrent.
The heron,
a still silhouette
waiting – one dart
of the sinuous neck
a flap of wings,
he’s facing me,
a sliver of smoke
blink and he’s gone,
whilst the weir
surges on.
Latest posts by Alyson Faye (see all)
- The Heron On The Weir - February 9, 2022
- Saturday Library Visit, 1977 - January 20, 2021