Blue Heron

At Sweetwater Springs

the stiff-legged heron

struts slowly,

each knee joint rises

and lowers

in measured cadence.

Slender salt grass parts

to accept placement

of her toes

among phytoplankton

and red pickleweed

in the estuary.

She walks under a ceiling

of coastal mists,

dips her beak

into the marsh algae

to grasp invertebrates,

a measure of sustenance —

just as this shoreline forest,

this vernal pond

are my nourishment

when I come forward

gradually, deliberately

to the edge of the sea.