The Lost Mate

Along the roadside

overgrown grass, green

carpeted with discarded dots;

soda cans, McDonalds hamburger wrappers

lots of other windblown trash

she sits

as though incubating a new life.

She looks constantly about

this lone goose, an alien from Canada

having plenty of relatives dotting

the landscape

familiar sights

nuisances

to lawns, golf courses,

frequent crossing against

local traffic,

they’re often injured, killed

by impatient drivers off to work, to shop, or

home. She sits alone

waiting. I’ve passed her for the

last month seeing her patience

as she waits in the same spot he

left her. She waits for this

lifelong mate to return. How does it

feel, the waiting? The loneliness?

What hope could possibly feed the vigilance?

How long does it take before one

gives up the vigil and concludes he

never will return?

Cab she ever imagine a new

plan for her life?

Could she be courageous enough to

Move-geographically, emotionally?

I wonder if there are other geese who

Stop by to give encouragement, some giving

Reports of shared sightings of the lost mate?

Simple irritating goose

Along the roadside

Raising so many life issues, speaking

Deeply to human hearts a prophetic

Questioning word from the creator.





Richard W Smith

April 18, 2011