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I’m writing this poem
at a picnic table in a park
in Newburgh New York
where I’ve come to wait
because an interview I
had scheduled evidently
was not written down
for the right time There’s
a Canada goose with
just one foot and a fish-
hook-sized scar on its
bill browsing for clover
about a yard from me
It’s a lovely day with high
cumulus clouds and a
breeze-ripple on the pond
When he started his
quiet approach I had been
afraid for a moment he
might want to nip me but
he’s perfectly placid
in this imperfect world
and remarkably steady
I go on putting one word
after another hoping
the next will clinch things
but of course it doesn’t
it just opens up some new
avenue to explore Not
that I regret working I’m
glad to continue across
this lawn with every piece
of clover so savory sure
of my ability to manage on
one foot as well as need be

~ Chris MacCormick


Metaphysical Times
Volume IX Number 3
Summer 2014


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