Little Egret, Gillan Creek
It strode,
Twisting its long, white neck,
Like it was listening
To the penny whistles of
Oystercatchers, busy on the mud,
In evening autumnal sunshine,
Glistening.
It leaned,
Reaching its slender, sinewy neck,
Like it was listing
To the incoming tide of
Dusk, wading in the slime,
Towards evening’s October chill,
Misting.
Pete Ray
Gillan Creek, Lizard, near St Anthony. Lovely.
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