Water holds the sky
where herons stalk eels.
Stately assassins inch
through flooded fields
in slowest motion, until the kill,
the stabbing blade,
a speed-blur you never see,
and never will
until it is too late.
Herons
Published by colinhopkirk
Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations. View more posts
Colin Hopkirk Poetry 
Hi Colin,
I have enjoyed this poem. Thank you. I especially love the first 2 lines. Fab!
speak soon, John.
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