In spring, a solitary heron waits,
By the path that leads down to the pool,
To swallow gophers, blind about their fates.
Oh, Nature is the cruelest sort of school!
Coyotes prowl the green wood that confines
The open space where neighbors stroll with pets;
So dangerous the city put up signs.
If beauty Nature gives, she also gets.
The pond is managed (one can hear the pumps)
To balance echo-systems and the joy
Of walkers’ dogs who smell each others rumps
(Our primal natures training can’t destroy).
The civilized and primal co-exist;
But Mother Nature’s got a mighty fist.