Heron Creek Poem by Jean Bernard Parr
Heron Creek
they flew in twos, threes,
lofting above trees
of river bend dream
the dactyl-herons,
gun-grey, old as a day
you lope across
on your ancient wires
underfoot, tremor
of discrete propeller
up there, a glimpse of
how it was before me
before everything, the leaves
turned yellow back then,
fell, turned as they fell
to cold water shocks
and above
the herons turned the
slow turn of clocks
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5/18/2024 4:40:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Sometimes feelings are amazing. The leaves turned into yellow back then falls down and such act represents seasonal impact on human life. An amazing poem is shared here.10