Today starts Daylight Savings Time. That is, for me, a more definite indication of Spring.
I wrote this poem several years ago and usually post it at this time of year.
Seasons of Change
Arrogance of a long, black neck
curving tall among the wild onions
the Canada gander stands guard.
Turns of his head are clear:
flashing the white, vivid splash
behind each suspicious eye.
Long, dusk-shadowed wings that know so many miles
tucked behind
much as a man’s clasped hands;
watching
like a department store floorwalker.
He, watching;
she, busily, practically
nibbling tender, green shoots
ignoring all else.
Sometime before dawn,
someone up early, or across the lake
probably heard the calls to assembly,
watched the twenty-two lift,
form a ragged wedge and turn for home
in the usual way,
and marked the changing of seasons.
Have these two mistaking the chill
of a late-march Alabama night
for the cool of their nesting grounds?
Having chosen to stay in this backwater
a little longer;
their path to the north will be quieter
without the clangor of the flock,
traveling their own track
making their own seasons of change.
TD
Love this 🙂
By: Larry enright on March 13, 2016
at 7:54 pm
Love the poem Tom! I need to visit some waterways and see what I find.
By: Rich Weatherly on March 13, 2016
at 8:26 pm
Always fun to read!
By: guvnamik on March 13, 2016
at 8:44 pm