Читать книгу Rising - Jane Beal - Страница 13

I turn

at the edge

of the lake—

two Great Blue

Herons swoop,

each around the other

in mid-air

til one flies

east, not far

from my face

while the other

goes west,

and settles

in the water

eyeing me

through the green pine

and the yellow grass

like Sky-Woman

fallen to earth

from Ga-lun-la-ti.