To be still
as a heron
's reflection's
still, his
bill
tilted up
from the water
to regard
a something
moving:
stilted above
his familiar
rippling double
now shyly
he bends his
knees slowly to sip
attentiveness
at the brimming
verge, now
slips
behind an overhanging
branch
shyly nipping
insects
one
by one, and perches
on the round of
log above
the waterline
watching the watcher
through the leaves till
he nods again
above the
page
and slowly while
he's not looking
start to wade
back out
into
the shadowed pond
again