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Spring Wildness

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SPRING—Geese.

Honking geese,

Hissing geese,

Red-tongue waggling geese.

I take aim with my laser pointer. The pair does not exit to water. Anger, springs.

I use words. Go to the island. That is your home. You are not welcome here. You are messy; you do not listen. You never fly south. You terrorize.

Now up close, I raise my wings, become large.

One sits solidly on the bank, but the other, raises up to his enemy,

Me.

Still determined I press forward eye to eye we face off.

I shoot the laser in his evil goosey eye,

He does not blink.

My arms grow weary. I fold them in front of me in praying surrender, and start to back away.

The two geese switch positions quickly,

As I continue to stare, I know there is only one reason they would switch positions.

Eggs,

Five fat eggs will be hatching,

Mama and Papa fiercely protect—

Spring, on Pine Lake.

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you’ll never forget

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slice button this marchyou’ll never forget your first job,

getting your job the day before school started,

and walking into the district union meeting thirty minutes late

because no one told you about it.

you’ll never forget that first class, 

the day before spring break when you actually cried

while trying to teach them double digit-division

for the 300th time.

you’ll never forget your first blog,

 

 

a challenge you created for yourself,

to communicate your ‘Slices’ weekly never knowing

a community would develop across the

writing miles.

you’ll never forget your first novel or your second,

a daily routine that gave you such pleasure

envisioning  protagonists that you loved

like they were sitting next to you

for the wild ride.

you’ll never forget the promise,

you made to yourself.

resist the temptation to stop

letting the words percolate,

letting the phrases swirl

forward … always.