This morning a great blue heron
stalks my back fields
more gray than anyone’s blue
in this early spring mist
feather blood bone vigilant bill
a strange hieroglyph pacing
my turning winter-fled fields
this shadowy imaged Osiris
far from temple walls
once listening for lost Egyptian souls.
Now voices rising in the damp fog
are frogs awaiting his dread release.
That glinting scalpel the sun
opens blue sky slit growing wider
rolling everywhere across the wet field
bare and smooth as green-dyed silk.
The blue-gray bird resolute to old desires
waiting listening into elaborate scenery
he steps deliberately as blood flows,
seeming more ancient still.
About the Author
Ed Higgins’ poems and short fiction have appeared in various print and online journals including: Monkeybicycle, Uut Poetry, Triggerfish Critical Review, Word Riot, and Tigershark Magazine, among others. He and his wife live on a small organic farm in Yamhill, OR, where they raise a menagerie of animals. Ed teaches literature at George Fox University, south of Portland, OR, and is Assistant Fiction Editor for Ireland-based Brilliant Flash Fiction.