Safeguards of Spring

swans & mallards

The lake is down –

To the frozen edges

A swan or two

And tasteless

Geese footing

To rocky nests

Where they curl into

Feathery boulders among

The cold pebbles

Upon which you’ll slip

Next summer

 

Try to find music in

Canadian geese honking

All night – by morning

You’ll know all about

Exercising in futility

 

They remain in spite of disdain

Small fluffy armadas floating in

February 28th’s icy water

Honking in a frosty daybreak

 

And, just when you’re ready

To curse the freezing dun

Madness of the season

An arcing muster of mallards

Waving in decisive consideration

Of parting clouds

Lands, arching necks

Off which the sun glints its elegant

Emerald promise of spring

I know It Will Be Spring

cropped-geese-on-lake.jpg

I know it will be spring

When the geese take up and leave

Yes, they’re beautiful graceful things

Their droppings though my peeve

 

I resent the season

Migration filling skies

A calendar with reason

Even so tears my eyes

 

Autumn, but a slant of change

A casual cool correction

Beauty in flight high and strange

Season’s savage intersection

I remember the sun

On its loving summer arc

Children ever on the run

Sleeveless in the park

Grown to love warmth and ease

And even winter’s thaw

I see the cold an ugly tease

Catching me bitter and raw

 

Every day the feathered armada

Noisily hugs the shore

Summer is persona-non-grata

And I want it all the more