Handles out, a red
felt bag lays spread eagle
on the ground. It must be

playing dead. There’s a blue
utility hole cover
over there. I see a white

human figure without hands
or feet painted on the pedestrian
trail ahead. Beside it, a white

silhouette of a bicycle with no rider
painted on the bike trail. Blue
recycle bins strategically placed.

The moon hangs white,
almost transparent,
against the pale blue

sky this early in the morning.
I don’t catch the color
of the large object (bird of prey?)

that falls from above, crashes
into an old iron rail bridge. Red
berries on an overgrown shrub—

probably poisonous.

Children play on deep blue
slides in the park. A red
wrong way sign warns riders

to adjust direction.
And, of course, the great blue
heron stands on its perch,

a tree branch rising from the lake.
No sign of an eagle
or wild turkey or any other myths.