Physical
by: Billy Collins
The nurse quipped
my pulse was so slow
she could take it with a sundial.
In a garden,
she watches the shadow move
while I sit there, ticking away.
It's going to be a short post tonight, disciples. It's been a long day, and I'm tired. I can feel my heart slowing down, my mind getting ready to reboot.
This morning, when I took my puppy out for her morning stroll around the backyard, we were surrounded by the cries of geese. It sounded like an Independence Day parade of honks and barks and horns.
Above us, the sky was overflowing with geese, returning from their winter retreats, I imagine. It was kind of miraculous to witness. It lasted almost five minutes--flock after flock forming and reforming into V's, winging across the heavens.
It made Saint Marty's heart beat a little faster.
Goose Morning
by: Martin Achatz
So many arrows
of Canadians
in the dawn sky,
calling out,
Spring, eh! Spring, eh!
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