Anhingas peek from swampy weeds <br />As herons stalk with grace <br />Their necks like swaying saw grass reeds <br />In flowing nature’s pace <br /> <br />The Sunday crowd now fills the trail <br />To seek much needed rest <br />Reflected in the eyes of quail <br />Or snow white egret crests <br /> <br />This day the price for dignity <br />Birds pay in unspoiled Glades <br />Is far from thoughts of urban men <br />Harsh death in mangrove shade <br /> <br />Breathtaking is the majesty <br />Of creatures whose frail nests <br />Are daily torn from limbs of trees <br />Eggs broken, bloodied breasts <br /> <br />They gaze with calm acceptance still <br />Though soon they must submit <br />To a primeaval, ancient will <br />Whose laws have long been writ <br /> <br />There is a blessing just to see <br />Glades hammocks’ unmatched flow <br />If only for a Sunday spree <br />Scrubbed tourists in a row <br /> <br />When we return to our routines <br />Where things are safe and real <br />Will we remember those rare scenes <br />The sea of grass reveals?<br /><br />Liilia Talts Morrison<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anhinga-trail/
