POEM - Goose Pond

Lunch time is walking time

Three times a week

There is a pleasant path at work

It circumnavigates a man-made pond

I like to stroll a few times around  

Makes me feel like I've done something

Escaped the business of four walls

For a small communal with nature

Lately I've noticed new residents

Some gray geese have made a home

Spawned a few offspring

Now it seems decided

They will summer here

They make me nervous

As I stride by

As nonchalant as possible

Avoiding eye contact

They raise their heads

Take a break from foraging

To consider my intentions

With those dark murderous eyes

I am not inclined to get involved

In an original version

Of Duck-Duck-Goose

I am afraid the rules they play by

Are more primal

Less about frivolity

More about basic survival

So I am careful how I walk

I make no motion

That might be construed

            By nervous winged parents

I even maintain deathly silence

            Eyes straight ahead

                        Arms folded over my chest

A perfect model of passivity

I seek a peaceful passage here

Never even posturing complaints

Concerning their atrocious manners

As they desecrate the path

With green-black mounds

Of territory defining landmines

It would do no good

To pursue reparations

From these long-necked aquatic denizens

They are adept at revenge

And I am loathe to be their target