Off the road, three geese
feel safe, wait for barley hay—
one without a mate.
Canada geese are like the 12th century mongol hordes of the bird world. In my neighbourhood duck pond where I sometimes stop to feed the ducks there was one giant goose, hissing at me and hogging the crumbs I was throwing at the mallard pairs. Last night walking a path that follows our beautiful Ottawa River, we were doing the goose-poop dance to avoid the lumps of feces everywhere. Here’s hoping that one mate-less bird stays single. That tirade aside, your haiku is lovely!
I’ll think of something to say when I finish chuckling. Jam what once was wild into a neighborhood duck pond, feed and tame them some more, and what have you got? Shit on your shoes.
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Perhaps if you didn’t feed them (which is illegal for a reason) they wouldn’t stay around long enough to make the mine field?
We humans are an odd species. The idea of taming the wild makes us feel special… for a while. Then we have to make them wild again to keep our shoes clean.
lol both responses so well said.
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