Two-Loon Afternoon
Earlier this afternoon,
I watched, from this exquisite distance,
Two lone common loons
Occupy the entire lake, have fall all to themselves,
As though freedom were their offspring.
I was beguiled, seeing them feed leisurely,
Not twenty yards from the shore beneath my feet,
Rarely even dip beneath the surface,
Everything within reach of their necks and bills.
That they've lingered this long,
So deep into September's wind-frigid tinges,
Might have to do with the lake's pervasive sway,
Its intimate knowledge of their myriad forebears;
Perhaps it's the indifference of sheer arrogance
Inherent in this pair's primitive species
That's keeping them here, belatedly;
Possibly, they're just waiting for nature
To release them, send them south of now.
Just this moment, I'm watching these renegades
Glide toward distant Honeymoon Point,
Thrusting up, flapping their wings, to dry their plumage,
Running across the water as if taxiing for takeoff,
Cavorting, splashing down, diving.
This is their high-spirited time, their interlude,
To revel in their mated-for-life autumnal autonomy,
Seize the people-empty afternoon,
And celebrate their far-northern seclusion.
09/22/11 - (3)
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