after Czelaw Milosz and James Wright  

Two small herons with yellow feet
circle their nest.  A fish flips
into the air.  I am fully awake. 
Dragonflies flutter, blue, lime green. 
Water striders spiral.  Cypress knees
cluster around their mothers.  I feel
the sun’s heat.  The great white heron’s
neck never straightens, its wings pull it,
like Icarus, to earth where it touches
a branch, then soars again.  My heart
opens.  A bullfrog croaks, once. 
In green shadows, trees, moss, leaves
stand tall. I have not wasted my life.