Anhingas peek from swampy weeds
As herons stalk with grace
Their necks like swaying saw grass reeds
In flowing nature’s pace
The Sunday crowd now fills the trail
To seek much needed rest
Reflected in the eyes of quail
Or snow white egret crests
This day the price for dignity
Birds pay in unspoiled Glades
Is far from thoughts of urban men
Harsh death in mangrove shade
Breathtaking is the majesty
Of creatures whose frail nests
Are daily torn from limbs of trees
Eggs broken, bloodied breasts
They gaze with calm acceptance still
Though soon they must submit
To a primeaval, ancient will
Whose laws have long been writ
There is a blessing just to see
Glades hammocks’ unmatched flow
If only for a Sunday spree
Scrubbed tourists in a row
When we return to our routines
Where things are safe and real
Will we remember those rare scenes
The sea of grass reveals?
Liilia Talts Morrison
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anhinga-trail/
