A shadow crosses my path
and I am at once
only that over which
the heron has flown —
of no other
consequence —
with only a regiment
of lilies to bear witness
how small am I
to his eye?
I wonder as I step
across a stream
apologizing
to the startled
swans
and bowing
to the osprey
watching
warily;
there’s a blush
in the tree tops
and across
my humbled face
the all of us
in awe of this
magnificent spring day.
Poem ©2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
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