for my grandsons . . .

This has been the time of the finishing off

of the animals.  They are going away -

their fur and their wild eyes, their voices.

      Hayden Carruth, "Essay"

Near the middle of this winter pond four geese

Circle slowly, keeping water where ice edges

A little farther each day toward what it wants

To complete, both a keeping in and keeping out,

Almost settling into its stilled composure that

For now these few geese who keep me winter

Company keep from closure, theirs and mine

And the pond's, how their passage on the water

In blue light of ice is delicate and translucent

As the brushstrokes of the Chinese landscapes

I love, as I love these geese, and you who grow

Older so much slower than I now, who do not

Know yet here is a scene growing rarer, who

Have not yet come to see all that is being lost

To us, these precious fragments of my places

And moments I give to you only love can keep.