Crane Cove

Like giant herons tiptoeing along the edge of the bay

They lumber in
in early morning,
their skeletal frames
barely visible
through the fog.

Cranes at the edge of the bay just south of downtown San Francisco.

Like giant herons
tiptoeing along
the edge of the bay,
watching more than moving,
waiting to be called to action,
to gently pick apart
the bits and pieces of things
floating in and out 
of the murky water.

They seem to work
best in pairs,
maybe its just
their preference,
to stand tall
side by side,
quietly watching over
their stretch
of the shore.

Their hulking presence
fades as the sun rises
and lights up all
that surrounds them.

They await
the end of the day 
when once again
they'll patiently watch
over the water
as the sun lights up
the far hills
transforming distant windows
into flickering sparks
that look more like
cozy camp fires
than portals 
into homes and offices.

The cranes again
become cranes,
any resemblance 
to their cousins 
the heron 
fading into the evening.