The heron, made of iron, had aged rusty,
quite beautifully so.
The heron’s toes, always a little ungainly, bent awkward
by weather and time.
The heron, fallen and lost in the undergrowth, but
Today, the heron stands tall again, looking up to a sky that is
Its rusty wings once again loosening to willow:
and the sparkling Tay is there!