Snowy Egret

The snowy egret
stands still,
its long neck bent
in a pose of perfect grace,
its yellow feet
plunging into the water,
a dancer in a bare room,
its head a regal piece of white,
its crown untouched.
And when it rises up,
it is the miracle of flight,
a dream meeting the sea,
coming back down—
into the soft, white
of the sandy shore.

• Mary Oliver