Thursday, January 14, 2010

Our Goose

Our Goose

On top of the ridge
overlooking the road
From the sheer height
of a stark old pine tree
Against the sharpness
of today’s blue sky

The Egyptian Goose stands alone
on a thick black branch
honking for its mate…

In our sheltered valley garden
we can hear it loudly
and know
it’s inevitable
goose shape

On the road
a smash of feathers
and bloody speed

The rising sun
turns the leaves gold
the shell of a Cicada
clings to the Comfrey
as if we could heal Change

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