Established 1999
Who are we when we walk
Amongst the bitterns?
Our rubber boots sloshing like horse hooves
In the reedy mud. Twirling perfumes, organic’s
Seductive concoctions
Of Bulrush root and reed grass.
A bittern’s calling haunting
The shadows that we are
To them. In a bittern’s world,
Through sunlit veils of mist
We are as a passing cloud would be.
A skulled shadow moving near the water
Disturbing nothing more
But the sunlit crests of pond ripples; for that moment.