Perhaps it was a heron
An inspiration in majesty
As the cars flashed underneath
And the wheels turned
The brakes scraped
The music played
The casino loomed
But there it is
Its head turns to look to its right
Feathers
Flight
Is there a fish
Entaloned?
No
It does not look hungry
The streets roll underneath
The firefighters are practicing on a burning container
The naval research station launches helicopters
The buses roll by
The river rolls, barely
And I roll
Nostrils full of tar
And smoke
The heat
The light
Mediated
By the sunglasses
The sweat
I'm not dirty
But I'm not full
And yet
There is no fish in my talons
As I turn my head to the right
Roman Ryan 