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Heron Waits

My poem, Heron Waits, has been accepted into an upcoming anthology by Gnashing Teeth publishing.



Heron Waits


The Samurai believed the soul lied in the stomach,

And would slice their own abdomens to free it,

Christians say it lies in the heart,

Books written echo the point,

Changing Hearts and Minds about Animals and Food,

By Gene Baur. Mine mourns,

For you.


She said, “grief is like the ocean,”

Far and wide or did she say,

“Deep and expansive?”

I know I’m drowning under its waves,

Water fills lungs, tides pull in,

I breathe, choking still.


A heron waits patiently for a kill,

She’ll use her beak to stab what she can,

And toss back her neck to let death

Slip down her throat,

Like the feet of men slipping on ballet shoes.

That’s how quick it happens,

bonds breaking.

Leaving the broken;

I’m sorry,

Am I forgivable?


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