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63 Flight of the Blue Heron 5:30 a.m. and I’m alone With birds I do not know Yet they serenade me In five different languages. I’ve never stood beneath your window To offer my raised and broken voice But I have sat on this winding beach For a year of mornings Hoping you would hear my songs— Waves, wind, words. Across calm silk folds of sky-water A blue heron has just taken flight Gently flapping eastward Gliding as if she knows the sun Has just risen orange Behind low gray clouds As if she knows her way Beyond the bridge near your home. When you see her from your balcony Please greet her In a language you do not understand. She will flap twice Then open up and sing for you All the music we have ever shared All the soft rhythms soon to arrive. ...

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