BLUE HERON STONE

Because I could not bring back
the blue heron
who watched us,
out of the river’s shadows,
and then flew heavily away—

because I could not keep
her yellow metal eye
to remind me of fierceness—
I kept this stone.

Blue-grey, like the heron,
layered by millions of years in the sea,
and rounded
by thousands of years in the river,

it is the circling clouds of a storm;
it is all weathers, all calm,
all the weight that keeps you from me
and holds us to the earth.

By Polly Brown

 

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