The following is a poem I wrote very recently, based on a very true event. It’s most-likely unfinished, but I wanted to share it anyway. Merry Christmas!
I walked over the hill, at dark,
Past the willow by the frozen pond,
Then slowed my gait and steeled my gaze
‘Cause something caught my eye beyond.
Make it newfound love, this thing I sense,
Or a run-in with a few old friends,
Or at least an angel singing songs, I prayed,
And prophesying better days.
Finally, the lamplight bent just right,
So I could see the sad, and sadly funny, sight.
A goose stood upright on the ice
Alone, there in the dark of night.
I walked as close as I could get,
And saw the goose was frozen stiff,
Unmoving,
Motionless as a monolith.
Afraid the ice would not support my weight,
I recommenced along the normal way,
But the goose was frozen in my foremost thoughts.
I ruminated, thinking of the poor bird’s fray.
Webbed feet frozen to the icy pond,
He must have flailed his wings and yanked.
But, in the end, instead of freezing contorted
Like a scared, pathetic, dying thing,
He stood up nobly like a king,
And gave his life into a marble work
Of Michelangelic beauty–quiet, strong, strange.
I went back out in the light of the next day.
The weather’d turned and a thaw’d begun.
The pond was still half-frozen,
But the lonesome, solid goose was gone.
And where he’d stood, my hope had sprung.
