poem

Trumpeter Swan

The Sidewaks iced and rigid

Shoeprints pressed like fossils in rocks

She navigates with care and for no reason

begins to run.

I have to hold back not to slip.

She noticed first the pink-edged feathers at the snowy curb.

The body lay beyond with its red open wound.

Black leather feet

ungainly awkward protrude up.

I was glad not to see the eyes

Blank and waiting.

Another solitary trumpeter swan flew over.

The trumpet sound lonely and sad.

Canada geese mate for life

I don’t know about trumpeters.

I hurried ahead and took the long way home

Not wanting to cross the dead bird again.

At the river a family of trumpeters:

Bright-white parents

Soft-grey young

Floating in the ice floes

Calling to one another

with that singular note

they often choose.