Saturday, March 24, 2012

White Crane


I do not consider myself to be a poet. I have friends and family who are great poets. I read their work in awe. How do they do that? I wonder, find a way with words that open whole new worlds for me. I struggle with poetry.  And so I’m always surprised when I find myself being poetical. And yet, once in a while, something happens…

A white crane stands in the water,
   sees me
      and waits ‘til I’ve had my fill of his beauty.

Slowly, so slowly he lifts
and spells himself across the sky.

Born aloft,
   a part of my spirit goes with him
         forever.

2 comments:

  1. I don't ever, EVER, want to hear that you are not a poet. This finishes that argument for good.

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  2. This is beautiful - great form - lovely, evocative images - I'm with Jean on her comment! Don't make me put on my teacher hat and scold you for putting yourself down!

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