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The Heronry

After a year of too much face time,

I came where I could choose, instead of people,

birds and their slant gaze, water, trees and clouds,

the gossip and confidences of cat’s-paw breezes

across the face of a lagoon.

I knew the place was the byproduct of money.

I knew it was peace that the state had paid for—

though only a few who knew about it prospered.

There was a bench in the sun that looked out over the shallows,

The Heronry

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