This morning as I took the dog out at the cold, gray crack of dawn, I could hear the geese gathered past the trees, at the foot of the hill, at the river. They were murmuring in those low almost human "voice in the distance" sounds they make. It sounded as if they were quietly taking attendance.
"I'm here. You there?"
"Yup, I'm here. Where's Joe?"
"Oh, yeah. He's here."
"I'm over here."
"Babs with you?"
"Yeah, she's here."
"Yup, all here."
And then quiet.
They must have determined that they are all accounted for after the dark night.
No coyotes had supper here last night.
Then there were the crows. They'll have their day here tomorrow.
Have a good day. Touch base with friends today. Make sure they know you are here and all is right. Then take a nap.
I wrote a poem today about the geese, but decided not to publish it here. Maybe you will read it someday when I become a famous poet and my book is in your library. Or maybe just my grandchildren will read it. That's good enough for me.