Leaving the house,
 I went out to see

 The frog, for example,
 in her satiny skin;

 and her eggs
 like a slippery veil;

 and her eyes
 with their golden rims;

 and the pond
 with its risen lilies;

 and its warmed shores
 dotted with pink flowers;

 and the long, windless afternoons;
 and the white heron

 like a dropped cloud,
 taking one slow step

 then standing awhile then taking
 another, writing

 her own soft-footed poem
 through the still waters.