Tea and Tampons... and Geese: A Poem

Hi again, this blogging has been less-than-regular. This interlude in my 2014 is called "Tea and Tampons" as I am on Tea and Tampon duty for youngest sister Frances while my parents come and go to/from our home in New Jersey over the next few weeks. I was literally instructed to make Frances a cup of tea every once in awhile, and go out and buy her tampons if she needs them (Frances is an extremely self-sufficient High School senior with a driver's license).  I'm just back from 5 weeks in Thailand and have about another 3 weeks until I move to New Orleans with my friend Chelsey, so I'm spending them here at Fox Sparrow Pond in good old Jersey Jers.

Frankie and our dog Chesapeake who I have also
been taking to the vet kind of a lot. We have bonded.

Let's see... if this interlude had a theme song it would be Stolen Dance by Milky Chance because I am digging that song at the moment (shout out to Shannon Haupt for introducing me to it on LandSea and for liking that song before liking that song was cool), if it had a currency it would be mother's debit card which we use to feed ourselves, if it had an emblematic food it would be a meatball because we eat a ton of those, and if it had a state bird it would be a GOOSE! When I'm not making tea, buying tampons, eating meatballs, or rocking out to Stolen Dance I am watching the oh so peculiar, but also majestic and fascinating geese that seem to have invited their own residence on our pond. So, in my enchanted existence, I wrote a poem.

Without further ado I bring you......

Geese

[Not] by, Mary Oliver

You would think we feed them or tend to them,

the way they assemble on our pond.

Black Friday

I hear their call as they descend into the yard… a call of belonging,

a call that is

afraid of being left behind.

Tonight there are 192, I count

quickly while they swim around.

Though that is just an estimate—rough

like their formation in flight.

When I walk down to the pond they paddle

away and find

their rightful cluster (or flock I guess is the scientific term).

The other morning, when there were 254 of them,

I ran down through the frosty grass to get some pictures, soaking my slippers through.

I went

all the way to the edge of the water and they dispersed, paddling away,

becoming agitated.

One flustered call became 7, became 27 became 47.

One twitched its wing, then 3, then 33.

One started to flap, then 10, then 20 were flapping and kicking furiously

GET ME UP IN THE AIR RIGHT NOW AND AWAY

FROM THE LADY WITH THE IPHONE

They thundered away.

Now it is growing dark and still they sit.

I wonder:

are these the same geese as two days ago?

The same as last weekend?

Do they like it here? Is our pond is a sort of cabin, cottage, weekend getaway?

Or are we just a rest stop on the interstate?

Is this flock from Maine? Nova Scotia?

We do have coffee

They’ve clearly found the bathroom.

What would you put in a vending machine for geese?

Up close I hate

them. As a child I remember being swarmed on a

park bench holding bread

up above my head.

But if they stay

away

down there

on the pond

they are quite nice. Especially because they are heading south.

Though it is taking them quite a while.

The Geese literally litter the pond.