What Lies Behind the NO TRESPASSING Sign

By Peg Quinn

My intent was respect
for the red-edged sign
wedged in the bush,

But there was open sky
with new brightness,
and a tan, dusty path curving
with a certain allure
that’s hard to resist.
So I entered.

Cattails swamped the creek
standing tall, at attention,
under inspection
of blue-winged dragonflies.

In a glance a Great White Egret
was sailing about twenty feet
above the path—straight toward me.
Swaying, as if it, too, were caught
in the single note of the trail’s
rhythmic movement.

I stopped.
Hoping to blend with the scenery.

Its broad wings pumped,
rowing closer.

As it moved by,
the light in its eye
blinked once,
a wink of approval,
a nod in passing.

Peg Quinn has a B.F.A. in Education from the University of Nebraska and is a visual artist and educator. Her poetry and creative non-fiction have been published in numerous journals and anthologies and three-times nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Her debut book, Mother Lode, was published by Gunpowder Press in 2021. Also by this poet: "Notes for an Oil Painting:" and "A Note of Thanks"