Heron at Okarito Lagoon
She stands on lean legs in the lagoon.
Her skirt hoisted to her thighs, her reflection
The congress in the trees, hunch importantly,
Perched smugly, their white judge-heads peering
Down to the water.
They cannot see themselves.
They imagine her
the hussy, bitch, tart,
the beauty so unaware that they all
want her, all of her, all of them.