They are large and warm

Roo Borson is another poet who is new to me. I am finding her work very appealing! And now I have been introduced to Canadian nature poetry, in addition.

The poem below has put me in mind of a poem by Hayden Carruth that I put on this blog earlier. I begin to think that I should take some walks to my daughter's farm and talk to her Shetland sheep. Almost every night I hear the mournful lowing of the cattle that are now being run on the nearby acreage adjacent to that we gave the Little Traverse Conservancy for a nature preserve. The adjacent land was offered to us, but a) the price was double what it should have been and b) the seller wanted to reserve the hunting rights for himself after he sold it! Also, we didn't have the money. The buyer fenced the whole acreage and now the Black Angus roam through the woods, or hang out in groups along the fence. I have eaten some good steaks in my time, but now the whole thing depresses me; I don't look the Angus in the eye as I pass by.

"Upset, Unable to Sleep, I Go for a Walk and
Stumble Upon Some Geese"
Bright dime
cut in two, one half
in the sky, the other fallen on the pond,
but no one will bother to pick it up,
the moon will never be whole again.
Up and down the grassy hillocks
they follow one another, walking
in groups under the grey glow.
I haven't even startled them, this is no hour
for a human. Together here they act
differently, like themselves,
warm-blooded, clumsy, bitching
at one another in a common language.
I wish I were asleep. They are large and warm.
I'd like to hold one of them,
hold, be held.

--Roo Borson
from Open Wide a Wilderness; Canadian Nature Poems, Wilfred Laurier University Press, Canada, 2009, page 376.