Night Herons, New South Wales
Less than a week into National Poetry Month and already I missed a day! Here's yesterday's poem, the last of five I found featuring herons and egrets.
Night Herons
Judith Wright
It was after a day's rain:
the street facing the west
was lit with glowing yellow;
the black road gleamed.
First one child looked and saw
and told another.
Face after face, the windows
flowered with eyes.
It was like a long fuse lighted,
the news travelling.
No one called out loudly;
everyone said "Hush."
The light deepened; the wet road
answered in daffodil colours,
and down its centre
walked the two tall herons.
Stranger than wild birds, even,
what happened on those faces:
suddenly believing in something,
they smiled and opened.
Children thought of fountains,
circuses, swans feeding;
women remembered words
spoken when they were young.
Everyone said "Hush;"
no one spoke loudly;
but suddenly the herons
rose and were gone. The light faded.
Night Herons
Judith Wright
It was after a day's rain:
the street facing the west
was lit with glowing yellow;
the black road gleamed.
First one child looked and saw
and told another.
Face after face, the windows
flowered with eyes.
It was like a long fuse lighted,
the news travelling.
No one called out loudly;
everyone said "Hush."
The light deepened; the wet road
answered in daffodil colours,
and down its centre
walked the two tall herons.
Stranger than wild birds, even,
what happened on those faces:
suddenly believing in something,
they smiled and opened.
Children thought of fountains,
circuses, swans feeding;
women remembered words
spoken when they were young.
Everyone said "Hush;"
no one spoke loudly;
but suddenly the herons
rose and were gone. The light faded.