Heron standing

steward overseeing

beckons me near with ancient eyes

great and blue

like his name supplies

the recognizable shapes of someone long laboring over thought

 

I came to him with joy and the weight of questions from years past

the hope of every birder to speak with this beast

prehistoric and wise

but i did not get to ask

it was his turn to speak

“Do you know why the land chokes?

Why smokestacks billow and coral reefs die?”

Taken aback, my gaze shattered like falling glass

down his immovable spine

He stabbed into the water and came up with

Debris

And set it down at my feet

Not blaming me but

Filled with decades of sorrow

 

I felt obliterated

for I love the ground which supports him and the

sky which holds him aloft,

but he asked of me still

impossibly hard things

he mourned

“Why are the seas overfished?

Why is enough never enough?

Do you know why the ceaseless wheels of progress

bowl over the unfortunate?”

 

I stood mouth agape

Head shaking like I could erase the truth

I asked through tears

“What can be done?” but his long beak like deep nights stayed persistent in its slumber

and I had no choice but to ask

“Why does this happen?” I pleaded

and the heron turned to me

amber orbs unchanging

“Humans think they’re better.”