june pond

water flat calm, brown
still, winter’s pure opposite—
a heron, wading

may pond, 2&3

17 may

which will I remember for you—
grass-grown gravel track away
from constant surge and pass of cars
in bright sunshine; eight ducklings
tumbling in still water beneath the bank;
willow’s huge grateful shade; one tractor
loud-plowing this last possible acre
among apartments, hospital, shopping mall

*

18 may

all ducklings aground
in hidden huddled shelter;
gust-ruffled water

may pond

someone has decreed:
the fountain stays on
goslings hatched, I find
I missed a month of purple
blossom rained down
now we’re serious
about greenleafing

spring pond

march

the ground mud-soft, so
over there a fence goes up
around the playground
(out with the old and in
with the new); the sidewalk trees
have fresh-cut eyes; smoke
of the prairie-burn drifts north
with this craze for nesting
these fussy pairs of geese

april

you follow the beacons
of bud-blaze, red

find, mud-still (mud,
still—) a man is fishing

march pond

death of death, softened
air; reeds, grasses a graveyard
of old sculpture snow-huddled
in slow collapse—

blue-sky water glitters
blackbirds trill and trill

february pond, 3

a still life in geese
on the pale stubble field
necks arched
we are all for the moment
motionless, stunned by sun

february pond, 2

the man—white hair, red jacket—
in golf cart gleefully sweeping
the hillside, full speed
(full gaggle, the birds lift
from grass and sun-sparked water
hang just overhead, then wheel
away into the distance, raucous
indignant)
now driving my direction
he asks if I want some geese

*

still, I consider the pond’s ruffled surface
while the wind-fluffed sparrow, shrub-top
eyes me with suspicion

february pond

a fine day to leave the path
feet crunching wheat-pale turf—
across the glass-hard pond

(surface bliss-blue, willow gold)
this subdued troop of geese
treks on, south and south: sunward

december pond

skate-thin or fist-deep ?
ice smooth and still; three bold crows
crown the five-eyed tree