the heron
stood in the
shallows
awkwardly
majestic as
it silently
watched the
sun glint off
of the waves
fiery wisps
dancing in
aloof celebration
the universe
is capable of
feats of
unrivaled beauty
easily forgotten
in the terminal
ugliness of
singularities
trudging along
alone in the
unbridled madness
of existence
i keep a heron
pinion to remind
myself that
my opinion
is little more
than an
inner chorus
wailing in dissent
a latchkey
collection of
subversive flaws
only i can see
she unfurls
her ivory wings
reed like legs
bent ever so
slightly as
she flies
a bass hanging
in a panic
from her beak
as she soars
an arrow of
striking perfection
flying low over
the placid lake
as the fool sits
new beginnings
in a repetition
of scribbled
prose seeking
a much needed
reminder of
beauty in
hazel desperation
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Hi Mike! I love how you describe sounds… and always seem to pick up on the bass. This poem echoes your prose perhaps, but I don’t think your repetitions are monotonous. What returns is like a thread that runs through your life soundtrack… (more than one) but I love that the Heron brings the reader to the presence of beauty and being in the moment in your poem. How nature does that. I reread the first story in your book with a small group who read it aloud. People couldn’t help but laugh where it was funny… but it’s still “horror” so there is a Tales of the Crypt “movie short” feeling… and I do think they could make this into one of those sketches. It’d be awesome. Anyhow, you have many layers… We will take on the next story in the near future. Thank you for being our book club author pick! ❤️ That’s my book report update… You do write musically.
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Oh my goodness. That is quite the honor, I suspect you guys will like Blobert then. Lol. Thank you, seriously. Dang.
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Cool. Everyone is looking forward to the Chapter-Installment parties! 🙌🏻❤︎
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