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Pond Side

by Kristina Woodhill

i packed my ladder today
adding legs to my craning

i packed my bungee cord as well
leaving arms free to push through

hold my place, keep a space
i'll breath in tight, will you, too?

pond side there's something
going on,
something, something,
something
going on

must be a late August show
advertised by quack-a-phone

goose-calling, osprey scream;
i was out of town and now

i'm scrambling just to be
a small part of this crowd's scene;

i'm in a hurry today,
just back from my normal
early morning stroll

even a casual observer
could see the brown blush

of cattail heads, looking
out over some provocative
pond underwater rock and roll

pond side, there's
something
something
something
going on

like 5am curbside, hunkered
on some Portland Rose Parade route

the bull rush pretend
with their dainty flowered heads

they're just out for a quick glance
at some new kid-on-the-bank water sprout

who are they kidding?
i've seen this kind of gathering before

i can tell by the sway of each blade
and round rushes urgent pushing swish

they're up against it,
their standing ovation clambering
for just one more, one more encore!

pond side
there's something
going on,
something, something
something
going on

08/23/2010

Posted on 08/23/2010
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/23/10 at 04:54 PM

The urgency to see what's going on is thick in this, and I want to see, too. Beautiful!

Posted by Charlie Morgan on 08/23/10 at 08:02 PM

...K-gal, there's something going on alright. this is such a soothing read. what a snapshot o' the goings-on of the world in the marshes etc., and you capture it so well.

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 08/24/10 at 02:11 AM

Late summer activity swells in this energetic poem of pond life somewhere (many somewheres).

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 08/24/10 at 07:18 PM

Nothing exists in isolation. It is plain from the very beginning that all living is relationship. There are the relationships in the woods, in the fields, in your own pond and in streams, in the village and in the country around it. Please continue to rub it in, as you do so well. Thanks.

Posted by Laura Doom on 08/25/10 at 12:20 PM

While twitchers collect visions in a tunnel, you open our eyes to the light of a virtual vacation -- given enough rope, we jump...

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