Heron’s Call

Grey heron 

circling Kagami river.

Strange,

barely heard cry,

a reed whistling

on the glaucous shore.

Beneath these

listless clouds,

hung out

with the faded streamers

of last summer’s festivals,

who does he

call out to?

And the slow river,

its waters faintly glinting

like the scales of

some giant, ponderous carp,

calls him back

again and again

to this abandoned place.

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