Homing
This late winter
two Egyptian
geese wing by,
their croaking
calls flap
the air, this
African dawn.
The last
Egyptian geese I saw
stood quietly on
the banks
of an ancient
fish pond
of a Norbertine
monastery
in the European
low lands,
the spawning
vijver of the old abbey:
timeless, and in
time,
placed out of
place,
silent in the
falling words
of midsummer
rain.
- Brian
Walter
