The Pond

The Pond


On the bank of the pond

surrounded by trees

and interspersed with cattails

I find refuge


As I crunch through the thick carpet

of fallen leaves

their sweet fragrance

envelops me

I spy a doe as


she sounds her barking alarm call

then flicks her white flag

and bounds away


Around me is the busy,

constant peeping of cardinals

as they flit from branch to branch.

I pause to drink in

Their song


Above me, a hawk closely

observes my approach and

waits a beat before

sliding smoothly off his perch

into flight.


Before me, translucent

dust motes float lazily I

the slanting sunlight of afternoon.


A tiny woodpecker circles the

base of two trees, moving

onto a third before setting to work

and drumming out a beat


A gaggle of geese

is silently swimming

I hear their laughter

as their contentment rolls out in waves. 



                                                     --Jill Deming



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