Angels on Maple Branches

The water’s ripples cast light on the trunks of oaks

Shimmering and shimmying, dancing with the wind

Nature’s beauty, unrefined, uneven, unblemished,

Man made moats are undesired for my progeny and kin.

Canadian Geese straddle the rock near center

Resting, mating, their location makes sense,

Since they’re the focal point.

Why should they give up carnal pleasure for lent?

As the sun rises upon this tiny section of the earth

All our avian friends make long distance calls

Across the pond, sound travels farther.

Warblers, chickadees, nuthatches,

all their calls free fall down to me

Solving my stresses, upon which all attaches,

I’m satchel-less, but resource-full,

Out here all you need is curiosity and coarse wool

Who needs a Porsche full of emptiness,

When we can sit on pine needles layered over glacial till

Eyes pulled skyward, under bended nests

Upends my dodgy thoughts

That I’ve been dodging for days.

The Dog days are coming, but first let’s enjoy April

Spend time with the loons in a land publicly palatial.

The spruce gum expands the palate as tasteful,

The sun’s beam exposes some spider webs, but not all.

Who doesn’t appreciate a surprise embrace?

Giving my heart strings a tug,

platonic arachnids acting playful.

The beavers dam lays in the water desiring pity

A project left only partially completed,

I can relate.

Will they continue their homes into the pond which they penetrate?

I no longer wish for the city, just for some people within it,

Let’s summon councils here, call it the Forest Senate.

To find this serenity elsewhere is to climb the tallest heavens.

But the angels still reside here, perched in the maple branches,

Keep your eyes open, peripheral vision is just polite side eye glances,

And discover a portal of import, to make enchanted advances.

Michael Carney