Murali Sivaramakrishnan

Night Heron- Poem

<Red trees
in evening’s
darkening
glow.
Breeze,
cat-footed,
stealthy,
alert.
Like
an ashen bird’s
first
awakening,
your
eyes
take in
the night.
Eight
night herons
voyage on.
Eight
silent
pilgrims,
or
prospectors.
In the distance,
mountains
loom,
like destiny.
With
the bitter
reluctance
of a waking child
a star
begins
to blink; the
landscape
blurs.
No more
the song
of the cicadas—
here let us
part.
And
peel off
the pearly
flowers
of rainy
afternoons,
one by one,
only to move on
like
night herons.
/>

Poem Submitted: Friday, November 4, 2011

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