Parking Geese
There are these small grassy islands
in-between the sectional lots of cars;
you would presume that nesting geese
would select these spaces
above all other less green choices,
but in the mall parking area
where acres of concrete march
toward distant outlets,
the geese have shunned greenery,
as if soft earth and sheltering stems
were just too rustic.
The birds have created synthetic havens,
woven from strips of Styrofoam, plastic bags,
cardboard fragments, straws, paper cups
and other debris plucked
from the strategically sparse
and overflowing trash bins.
I don’t know if being Canadian, the geese
eschew anything that smells of
wild prairies, or snowy hills,
preferring, like tourists, to construct
their nests to be more like un-valeted motel rooms
after a boozy party.
They sit there taking turns
to face the exhaust fumes,
the rumbling squeal of broken cartwheels,
crying kids being dragged into minivans;
all the chaos of a tribal shopping dance.
They seem content to mix it
with these Ohio natives
with their discarded urban detritus.
Maybe they feel like rich vacationers
in a less fortunate, impoverished land,
I guess after all,
they just want to blend in.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2019
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