Late afternoon,
and I had walked the dogs;
endured their stops and starts,
their drag upon my aching arms.
Now I had shut the door
upon the ache of our attachment,
was walking freely to the water’s edge.
My arms felt light,
my mind relaxed into the ambience
of soft light spilling over water,
lone green heron standing in the marsh.
My camera was at hand;
it’s eye was open.
My eye was open to perceive the beauty
of a solitary bird.