egrets return
to a single
riverside tree
some flap,
hover in pairs
some in flocks
fly, flutter like butterflies
till each gets a spot
the tree
a bouquet
of white blooms
as the sun sets
(saw in centre of Borneo this afternoon)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What the true poet sees is always unique. Fine work, John. Kindest regards, Sandra