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