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Beginnings of light
merged into dawn’s mist
sprayed across white meadows.
A pool of leaden ice, tin roofed shed,
above the river.
Shrill piercing whistle,
loud splash-
a dash to break cover.
In a brief shaft of sunlight,
each footprint leaves its mark
on open country.
A heron too
searches for its prey.
Sensing danger,
takes flight on clumsy wings.
A fish still struggles in his beak,
soon swallowed.
The river continues to salve
edge of distant ocean.

31 Oct 06

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I love the imagery in this poem, my favourite lines are definitely the 18 & 19.

 — unknown

Dear Unknown

This poem is directly written from nature.

Larry binoculars lark
 — larrylark