Specter
Lynn Hoggard

The mist on the water
makes vision uncertain
on the pond’s far side,
but on this side,
tall and formal,
his back to us,
a great blue heron
stands
as if attending
a ceremony.

He is facing the water’s other side,
where, ghostlike in the morning,
a smaller female stands—
like his reflection,
like her own vanished form.

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