Friday, May 9, 2014

For losses yet to come

The world is blessed with so much beauty,
and so much of it fragile;
Hard not to ache for all the losses yet to come.
But here's what I don't understand:
the fish the heron catches dies (of course),
and we know the heron soon will fly away.
But this tree, this old dead tree that I don't want,
will still be clinging to the beach
long after I am gone.

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