Wild Geese on a Pond & Other Poems
By Carol Casey
Wild Geese on a Pond
The Whisper
A whisper startles the frozen womb of winter
as a probing root meets a small spot of moisture,
sighs open a thirsty mouth to draw in, up through
minuscule spongy caverns that pass the slight rustle
along subterranean fibres. The microbiome rouses,
transmits electric impulses throughout the forest base.
The whisper spreads through mysterious passages till
the network is ablaze, tingles with subtle stirrings;
spreads skyward, finds pathways to light till the tree
is awash to the tips of branches. Secret swellings weave
green streamers of surrender to the sun, saturate,
celebrate the bliss of chlorophyll.
Caught
The sunlight on the porch
has found a filament to play,
a tiny light bobs here, then there,
widening, narrowing
on invisible currents
like an incandescent ball thrown
and caught that sometimes
becomes the net
then unfurls into a
photon straining
to break out in colour.
I’m entangled in the cunning
of a handiwork that catches
sun, water, victim
in simple gossamer.
Sometimes it’s the beauty
other times the cruelty,
or hairy legs crawling,
or patient waiting,
unflagging industry,
or the unfailing rhythm
life, beauty, death.
Carol Casey lives in Blyth, Ontario, Canada. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and has appeared in The Leaf, The Prairie Journal, Synaeresis and others, including a number of anthologies, most recently, Much Madness, Divinest Sense, Tending the Fire and i am what becomes of broken branch.