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THE HERON'S EVENING FEED
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JOURNAL #29 I have seen no prophet
I have tasted no myth
the eyes of the heron
dance all over the ocean bar
preening for a festive fish
as evening gathers in her
twinkling children
among the folds of the night's foamy mist
one more feathered sister
flies heavily back to her nest
with the prince of her night's
feast nearer than her last
dear one she undressed
(written Aug,1,2004 340 am)
