Hoooonk! Hoooonk! Flying through the misty gray sky
Spreading formation and wing with song, they fly on
Onward, onward until at last they have flown
No trace of them now can ever my eye espy
Brrrrrr! Brrrrr! The chill of the morn’ in my bones
Pulling my coat collar up ‘round the nape of my neck
Skyward-transfixed, treading my own weary trek
I no longer find their existence, not even their groans
Croak! Plop! An old frog jumps in the pond
He was here, fading ripples never tell lies
A sharp wind whittles away at my eyes
It’s only winter in my face coming ‘round
Huuum! Huuum! I even lost sight of my goal
Where now are the geese and where is the frog?
Huuum! Huuum! I love the cold and the fog
I love winter, even when snow chills my soul
What was I, what am I, How much is any man’s sum?
What traces of life have I ever left behind?
Maybe nothing at all was here not even my mind
What? Honk, croak, plop, hum!
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I can picture it all so vividly, it's almost real, as I sit down by the fire and drink my hot cup of coffee as I watch you struggle to write what you just observed outside or something, It's freakin' summer now, and I am cold, your awsome, Great write, good job, thanks,
This seems an elaboration on a haiku about the frog that jumps in the the pond, with it's "plop" the only thing left to really contemplate, the way one contemplates "aum." The poem left me a bit dizzy and disoriented, but with a certain serenity, not unlike what I felt when I did a 360 on the Kowanus expressway many years ago. You just can't explain certain things, but they are there and very real.
I find the last stanza to be the most powerful, as it's the climax to the poem. I usually have moments where I know I've heard or seen something but doubt it was there. Not because it was frightening or anything, but almost like it was surreal. I've only ever seen geese migrating once or twice in my long life, so I guess it's a good example. It could have been the sun playing tricks, or the clouds thinning out. Ya never know.
Very interesting. It's remotely childish and the repetitiveness... Well, this isn't your best work. It's an interesting topic, and it is nice to read so many new poems in such a current basis, but I live in the shadows of joy. And spelling "around" "'round" all the time gets slightly irritating. Overall good work. It's an interesting take on nature and such.
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