The spring woods create a soft border around the lake. Seduced by the colors and the contrast, I walk out onto a pier. A FLECK of something floats by on the breeze. At first, I think it is a petal from one of the flowering trees above me. But no, if is a different bit of fluff, a feather. It feels like magic, something out of time that could EXIST only in fantasy. Overhead a HERON flies, long neck and great wings coordinating in a marvel of grace. I find myself stretching up, elongating my own spine: as if on the VERGE of flight or as if about to MERGE with the glorious creature above me.

Georg’ann

REACH through thorns for fruit.
Hard won, this sweet BERRY. Taste.
MERGE strife with delight.

Heather