A great blue heron
landed near the cattails
at the edge of the pond.
It sat tall,
still as a chalice,
only twice in several minutes
turning its dark-plumed head.
But half a dozen blackbirds
kept harassing
mobbing
jabbing towards it,
wishing it ill.
Slowly, it swooped its luxurious wings
drew in its resplendent head
trailed back its streamer-ribbon legs
rose and drifted off beyond the hill.
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