Heron

Heron: hunched, gray,
no plumage to waste on a kingfisher display;

patient as a vulture,
impassive as a judge,
dangling the business end of its beak
like a sword until an itch
hits its wing-pit;
it contorts it like a silly goose.

Even the most cynical of men
cannot let a tickle go unteased.

This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s