The Place Where Egrets Danced
The lake is slowly going dry,
where herons fish and turtles swim.
No rain clouds in a clear blue sky
to give some shade, provide a scrim.
The shoreline has receded such
that killdeer strut the dry lakebed.
The egrets, searching, don’t find much,
must leave this place to fish instead
in other lakes, in other ponds
with water clear. There, food is found
among the reeds where fish are spawned.
How I will miss their croaking sounds,
their long-legged stride, some ancient dance
that I was privileged to view,
their patience and their stately stance.
The flash of white when off they flew.
The lake is starting to go dry
filled only with the tears they cried.
An epic statement and true 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sad ending but filled with lovely imagery. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike
…. I can see the dry lake bed, the egrets searching for food. You painted with words, quite well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike
Nice and so sad to see that these beautiful birds have to go somewhere else
LikeLiked by 1 person
You paint so beautifully with words!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha ha, I see Helen said that too.
LikeLike
😁
LikeLike
Thank you
LikeLike