Morning on Bronze Pond

There they go, wild geese of peace —
making form of time

while wood ducks bob for breakfast feasts

there they go, wild geese of peace.

But the flicker’s staccato drumming will not cease

until I wake to the day’s rhythm and rhyme.

There they go, wild geese of peace —

making form of time.

What determines a morning end?
When hummingbirds beat frenzy into the day,

or when cattails burst and willows bend?

What determines a morning end?

When wood ducks, through reeds, weave and wend,

or the heron, on one leg, begins to sway?

What determines a morning end?

When hummingbirds beat frenzy into the day.

In 2017 I rented an apartment for a few months at the Caswell Gardens in Troutdale. Bronze Pond was surrounded by bronze sculptures. It was the best apartment ever. I wrote every morning out by the pond.