Night Balm
a tanka sequence
lakeside
I watch a heron standing
long neck craned
in the scent of damp earth
its stillness calms my spirit
sundown
waves lapping at muddy banks
the tireless cry
of a lone curlew rising
unlocks my melancholy
I contemplate
black swan silhouettes
in fading light
journey into the unknown
in search of a new shore
last light now gone
by the moon’s silver glow
fishermen pull oars
with a smudging of clouds
in night’s balm I’m enfolded