Give me a vernal pond, and
an empty grove
And in the morning sun
all my sorrows will quietly disperse,
Like downy seeds on the wind
While to the angry Don,
all rage I’ll cede,
Sure the great river’s reasons supersede mine.
My lesser ire always vanishes
in beds of white trilliums and bluebells,
As was expected today;
But a noisy ‘pecker was hammering long and hard
at a tall impassive blond
Weak against the strong beak,
turned my mind to Miles,
In defiance of my earlier behest.
Then, as if to apologize,
Nature brought me between the trees,
To a shy little black pond
resolutely fighting Winter’s chill.
And if I was seduced,
Worse were the swooping mallards
who dove in together
and proceeded to throw me the evil eye.
“Alright,” I said, “have it your way!”
But as I pulled away,
I glimpsed a narcissistic sign
which sent me scampering again —
This time toward a drake and his girl,
who were pecking along the mossy shore.
Right then it dawned on me
that all these flighty creatures are paired;
And I was left wondering, why them and not me?