The Unfolding
I love the Great Blue Heron
nesting on my pond.
I love his stress
when the Red-Winged Black Birds
peck at his head with retribution
for his thievery of eggs.
I love how he stands up and
takes it all,
the swirling wings of tiny payback
and I love, oh I love…
how the day exists beneath his wings
and even more
how they unfold: feather to muscle to bone
to flight and that somehow
in all of it I do not matter.
By Ann Iverson in “Broad Wings, Long Legs”