as the sun rose sunday morning two great blue herons flew across the sky they were great but not so blue underbellies wet from the river a muddy gray juveniles young in flight where were they going only to pass in front of me at that precise moment flying with necks pulled in beaks fiercely forward ancient legs trailing behind creatures like me evolved from the earth a perfect form heron take fish and frogs from the dark marsh bottom build nests high in tall trees mate and raise eggs to fledglings ascend and descend thousands of times in the sky die and return to earth memories of joyous flight in porous bones
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Beautiful. As always.