The Heron   (a fable)

The pike sups on a tadpole

 in this turgid lily-pool

where the grey can swim unseen.

 

Decorated with gold-braid

the ostentatious swish

lazily from under lilies

filmed in the focused eye

of a patient leveller.

 

A shutter clicks, splash,

gold thrashes on the green.

A blade slides, splash,

white cheeks in a basket .

A trigger pulled, splash,

blood’s red on the sand.

 

From the sludge the froglets crawl

croaking in the nights chill air,

to return a warm spring night

to spawn - in a pond of equals.