Overheard at the Pond

4/9

Overheard at a pond a 11:00 p.m.

This path is too dark to walk on this late,
the lights are all out, the moon obscured,
the asphalt is black and so is my dog,
and my wandering leash disappears into a void.

How the toads and the crickets call!
Tiny, noisy engines, vibrating life,
filling the darkness with their hum,
crying, "I am here! I am here! I am here!"

A mockingbird calls out, a jazz musician's
flute solo, a flashbulb pop of sound,
a silver scarf thrown against the night sky,
singing, "I live! I live! I live!"

The waves crashing on a distant beach,
are just cars on the road past the trees,
taking breath as they come, sighing as they pass,
calling, "We go! We go! We go!"

Mesquite beans crackle under my feet,
my dog huffs and snorts in the grass,
my shoes scrape the pavement,
as we circle back towards home.