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| Currituck Sound, please expand. |
When wind from the north blows hard down the bar
drawing depth from the sound to add to the sea,
then the heron can hunt far into the sheen
with magnificent poise, a single, slow step,
then stillness and patience, not even a ripple,
as if it had its whole winged life
to feed its red-eyed hunger—
easy to wish we'd lived with such grace,
focused and calm in the shallows,
knowing which flash was out of our reach,
but our instincts were human and stronger.
