The great blue heron broke her driftwood pose;
her wings plumed wide, over the stream she rose.
Rising high above the crystal waters,
a journey to a far off place she goes.
Floating on the air
the eagles’ wings flow,
gnashing their teeth
on a rumpus they go.
Glistening in the moonlight,
the blue, blue moonlight,
shimmering beams of stars
dance gleefully in azure.
Points of light coming from
how far? No one is sure.
- by Meleta Buckstaff, Carrie Geraci, Amy Goicoechea, Jennifer Hoffman, Doug Miller, Terry Roice, and Carol Schneebeck
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