the neck of the great blue heron
does not crane at my arrival
she does not gawk as i reach for my camera
fearful of her fleeting beauty
she thinks nothing of the way i mother
of my daughter tossing rocks at an otherwise still lake
reflections
the neck of the great blue heron
does not crane at my arrival
she does not gawk as i reach for my camera
fearful of her fleeting beauty
she thinks nothing of the way i mother
of my daughter tossing rocks at an otherwise still lake
santos scribes 
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