The heron is the master of the river
The wooded valley is his Broadway
Once, I saw his silhouette against the moon
Like a hood ornament, silver and still
His reflection looms in the noisy tracks,
The heron is the master of the river
Bending upwards to high-rise real-estate
For business unconcerning to land-walkers
Way up high, I saw his silhouette against the moon
When the curtain falls, he goes to the trees
In starlight, his screams fill the valley,
The heron is the master of the river
Preening with a head-teachers pointer
In morning sun, his feathers like fur
One winter’s night, I saw his silhouette against the moon
Today there’ll be a matinee
All the creatures of the valley will come
The heron is the master of the river
And tonight, we’ll see his silhouette against the moon.
By J. Brown