acrostic poem

GREAT WHITE HERON



Glides he in, lands at the lip of the lake, steps in – folds cloaking white wings

Regally; he stretches his full length, his neck and head rising like a watchtower,

Eyes the finned shadows in the water, his beacon head turning left, then right,

And with deft feet moves stately, impelling no ripple to disturb the dawning peace.

The fish are feeding, gobbling and gilling, and see only reeds rising from surface.

Whiteness permeates – salty sand, blanched feathers, spackling sunlight.

Heroes stand as tall and proud as he, as a regent waiting to be served.

In intense observation, I watch him watching, taut interest strung tight.

The imperial bird holds still, his prey near, his auroral prayer answered.

Every muscled instinct compels him downward, descending cottony cloud.

His neck coils into an S, and he looks askance at his unwary breakfast.

Energy springs his beak into the liquid; it returns laden with flopping, wriggling life.

Repeatedly he dabs the water with his victim, inducing exhaustion and stillness.

Over his beak he flips his meal, so headfirst it plummets down his strait gullet.

Now he stretches, settles and glances about his realm, lord of the morning lake.


2008

"Great White Heron" is an acrostic poem.
This is another favorite poem in which I could never interest an editor, but it is after all just a picture in words. (Or, is there more?)  By the way, I wasn't standing on shore watching the heron; I had been swimming in the tidal pool off Biscayne National Park.  When I saw the heron land, I moved as gently as I could toward it as it hunted along the shore.  I got within twenty feet and stayed there with just my head above water, so I could watch the bird closely.  It saw me, but didn't perceive me as a threat.

When I was a teenager, my mother had gotten me a small version of John James Audubon's Birds of America.  Using watercolor paints, I copied several of the birds from the book, trying to reproduce Audubon's colors.  I got the form of the birds pretty well, but the colors I had weren't true matches to Audubon's.  In that book I first saw his print The Great White Heron.  Mother also got me a Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America, to which I constantly referred whenever I encountered a bird I hadn't seen before. (I had a great mother.)  Below is Audubon's print.

"Audubon is credited with being the first to identify the Great White Heron as a separate species and gave it the name, Ardea occidentilis. The Great White Heron has recently been designated a morph or color form of the Great Blue Heron."--http://www.floridakeysbest.com/audubon/great_white_heron.htm

After college I read Robert Penn Warren's long beautiful poem Audubon: A Vision.  In the first verse, he describes Audubon seeing a great white heron for the first time.

                                      Saw
Eastward and over the cypress swamp, the dawn
Redder than meat, break;
And the large bird,
Long neck outthrust, wings crooked to scull air, moved
In a slow calligraphy, crank, flat, and black against
The color of God's blood spilt, as though
Pulled by a string.

Once teaching a creative writing class, I read my poem "Great White Heron" because the class wanted to hear some of my work.  Most of the class were 17 to 19 years old, but a few were in their 20s.  One of the older students blurted out there was no great white heron.  I was astonished, but I asked her why she thought so.  She said it was probably just a large egret.  But I was sure I had seen a great white heron.  I went to my office, researched the topic, and the next class I gave the students a slide show presentation.  I showed them Audubon's print and told how he was the first to document the bird, I read to them from Audubon: A Vision,  I showed them the website of the Great White Heron National Wildlife Refuge in Big Pine Key, and I showed them a range study of the great white heron, which stated that bird could be found as far north as Biscayne Bay.  The student who had attempted to ridicule my poem hung her head.

However, I also realized what an extraordinary event it was for me to have been where I was and had the rare bird alight so close to me--as if I were being blessed with a poetic vision.

Below are links to some of the books and prints mentioned in today's blog.