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About Hoping For A Heron
One of my favorite poems to read in classes is Manners by Pamela Alexander. "The wolf sits /where I've sat all morning hoping / for a heron…" I read it to remind myself, as well as my students, that we too often overlook or ignore the marvels in front of our noses because we were expecting something else. Heaven only knows how many tongue-dripping yellow-eyed wolves have abandoned me because I was turning myself inside out trying to make that blasted heron appear. In this vessel, the "heron" is actually a sandhill crane. The wolf is hiding in plain sight, larger than life, looking out from the silk skin of the vessel. How odd that this wolf has blue eyes and weak chin.
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