The Egret's Feet Are Dry
The river’s low
it’s flowing slow
the Egret’s feet are dry
he hunts a frog
beneath a log
as sundrenched shadows sigh
a muskrat stuck
in oatmeal muck
struggles to the shore
as I drift by
I start to cry
our river is no more
John G. Lawless
©8/11/2022
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