Heron, West Cork
Surrounded by waves of rock,
Stands a Heron.
In its beak
The X of a frog
About to make his final 'plop! '.
The Heron collects,
Beak first, then out around the wings,
Slowly, slowly all the way down, down
To its claw tips.
Slowly. Slowly drawing the cloak that is Heron
Up, up into air.
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Comments about this poem (Heron, West Cork by Seamus Hogan )
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