BLUE HERON

A blue heron lifts
from pond’s blurred
shore between shifts
of mist, an arrow through
morning.  Bird devolves
into a feathered
fluster that wastes
its inspiration on me.
A slow plodder, barely
awake, I lift bare
inches above anchored
soles until sunrise
clears the air,
too late for me
to see where
the heron has flown.

Richard Dinges, Jr. works on his homestead, surrounded by trees and grassland, with his wife, two dogs, two cats, and eleven chickens. Writer’s Block, Courtship of Winds, Literary Heist, Atlanta Review, and Alembic most recently accepted his words for their publications.