Giant Blue Poet

If giant blue heron

Wrote poetry at the bay

Perched atop century-old pilings

Pondering

Across calm silver ripples

toward mountain shaped islands

Gazing

Calls of seagulls and ducks, crows and engines of fishing boats

Listening

Sailboat jibs in the harbor

Swaying

Salty gentle breezes

Inhaling

Small burst of sunshine pouring down like heavens bright light through curdled clouds

Praising

Bobbing head of a harbor seal making its way stealthily across the bay

Watching

Footsteps and chatter of people and children as they round the bend in the park

Startling

Lady sitting on that bench again

Wondering

Would he write a poem about that?

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