the great blue heron made no sound
save for the flap of his giant wings
legs kicked briefly at the air above the river
jumping off like something
in The 36th Chamber of Shaolin //

communing with the silence of traffic at 3 am
the tug boat spot lights draw lines
like low lying fog / I find I am uninterested
in the angry young punks, their posturing
and only the desperate fishermen are out this morning //

they will blame their failure on river monsters
too big for the shallow mud but they
do not look too close at the waters no
not too close else they will conclude too correctly / I conclude nothing it is not yet 5am

too early to order breakfast// and I am too heavy footed too earth bound and I do not yet
speak heron