Blue Heron

The great bird feathered harpoon Flung from one shore to the other Soaring over the Caribbean green of Torch Lake Flies at the bow of my speeding boat Or should I say more accurately I race on the morning frill of waves At the Blue Heron’s pointing wing 20 miles per hour On the nose Skipping stones lake to sky to lake How to explain why flowers trees and birds And even man with her pyramids Are driven upward? The sun’s draw more powerful than the iron grave of gravity Behold Goethe The doomed mathematics of the boat beneath me Opposed to this bird Born free to fly in one with majesty How I wish to be all of thee The rising slopes stop my boat Heron looks back Glides atop and over the hills to Central Lake As if he was but a trick of the wind And me a sleight of hand.