Two Geese Walking
Two geese walking—walking—
I follow wide slapping foot prints
in the cloying taupe sand that low tide
leaves lying on the inlet bottom.
Two geese nod here and there,
in and amongst last years dry weeds
past shrubs, reddish with promises of spring,
past pearlescent gifts from the sea.
no time for gleaming mussel and oyster shells
rubbed by endless, persistent waves,
to mother of pearl hearts.
Shells, no longer fortresses for soft mollusks;
food for raucous gulls.
I stay transfixed
as the sun brings glowing, multi-hued
mother of pearl to a new life.
Spring breezes stir brittle reeds—
as if to clear away winter
and welcome new spring.
Two geese walk on—
nodding—dipping glossy sculpted beaks
into shallow tidal waters.
Two geese flying over head—
My two walking geese call—
answered by the travelers.