THE GOOSE
by: SIPPICAN COTTAGE
The goose flew by and jarred my mind
What was the life he left behind?
A distant lake that caught his eye
But who needs home if you can fly?
You’re free to go from place to place
And leave but ripples as a trace
To spread out like a ghost’s canoe
And then they’re gone the same as you
Do you remember where you’ve been?
The little families you begin?
Or do you soar without a care
For little goslings everywhere
The world seems small to such as you
Who fly above our earthbound view
But we who linger in the ponds
Can make a nest here in the fronds
We’ll never soar close to the sun
We’ve little dreams and not much fun
But as you pass us overhead
Do you wish you’d stayed instead?
( A continuation of: The Crow. Don’t ask me; I just start typing)
4 Responses
If thou didst feed on western plains of yore;
Or waddle wide with flat and flabby feet
Over some Cambrian mountain’s plashy moor;
Or find in farmer’s yard a safe retreat
From gipsy thieves, and foxes sly and fleet;
If thy grey quills, by lawyer guided, trace
Deeds big with ruin to some wretched race,
Or love-sick poet’s sonnet, sad and sweet,
Wailing the rigour of his lady fair;
Or if, the drudge of housemaid’s daily toil,
Cobwebs and dust thy pinions white besoil,
Departed Goose! I neither know nor care.
But this I know, that thou wert very fine,
Season’d with sage and onions, and port wine.
Whose drarwings?
George- Fantastic.
Ruth Anne- I regret I don’t know. They’re from some old out-of-print book I neglected to make a note of.
O.T. Siam?
Full name: Owa Tagoo Siam.