A heron standing at

the edge of the pond

motionless as a 

sculpture as we came 

out of the woods.

We stopped, watched,

crept closer and closer.

With a sharp cry it

lifted its wings and

flew across the water

not wanting its

peace invaded by

us, the trespassers.

When each day brings

a new insult, a new

meanness, even attempts

to change our history,

I must lose myself

in the beauty of this

world, shield myself

from all the ugly actions,

even if for one brief moment.