I have
to say it troubles me
to see
a heron in a tree;
to see
it balance on a stick
at
heights that make you feel quite sick.
They
have those legs that don’t look strong;
that
seem too thin and over long.
And if
a breeze shook up that tree,
a sticky end I could foresee.
Now if
I was that gangly bird,
with
legs that look to me absurd,
I
wouldn’t stand and risk my neck
so very
high above the deck.
I think
the cautious route I’d take,
reduce
the risk, make no mistake.
Yes,
I’d adopt a safe technique;
I’d sit
and cling on with my beak.
Picture Credit ... Neil Phillips (wikicommons)
JH Poem Copyright © 2018 Jonathan Humble