Crane on Fish Rock

On jet stilts shank-deep in water and weeds eddying about Fish Rock he posed: pretending drowse, but every white feather alert. His neck eased down, a tired question mark: twisted, swayed in serpentine design, watch from both sides unblinkingly aware.

Eventually the tide washed potluck by: and in one silky practice-perfect lunge, head clean to breast submerged beneath a wave: a contracting phantom.

The sinuous wet-quilled head surfaced again, beak locked on provender of generous sea. Gulp: and once more the

waiting philosopher stance: the vigil resumed for drifting dessert.

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