this week the geese started returning

in my dreams last night it was
both of our graduations. i did not
have a gift for you & i was already late.
i am afraid of being empty handed.
once i filled my purse with chicken eggs
& forgot about it. yes, of course 
they all a shattered leaving a sticky regret. 
you keep saying how much you want
pet ducks. you want to hear them
singing in the morning like fresh horns. 
sometimes when we go walking 
at the throat of the world we'll find
ducks preening themselves. winter is 
probably already here. i see the geese
like bible darts. can you believe i once
tried to read the tracing pages of that book
as if god is just waiting in a bush of words?
i think i will give in next year & we will
be overrun by ducks. there are worse creatures
to be ruled by. right now i am ruled by
border wounds & thumb-eating men. 
a male duck is called a drake. i am hoping
for a sweet one but i assume he will
be just like the rooster. a vendetta against
any form of domination. i wish i was 
a drake or even a rooster. instead 
i am a creature at the edge of all things.
the corn field & the winter & girl.
when people ask if i live on a farm
i sometimes say "yes." i would argue 
most of us are living on a farm. the sun 
brings you something to harvest. you are
talking to the land like an uncle. 
"yes, i am hungry. no, i do not know
how to talk to the moon anymore."
once, last year, in the dead of winter,
a goose came to our back porch, lost.
we fed him/her. left out water for him/her
to drink. i hope that goose is a duck now.
i hope she/he lays eggs the size of 
really nice river rocks. i hope one of them 
hatches a golden door. in the dream i bought
as much as i could. i had a wad of cash
in my wallet. it was a strange time
for a graduation. i am so proud of you 
despite not getting you ducks this year.
sometimes it is too soon to be happy. sometimes
the land is not big enough. the cusp guardians,
us, like two creek islands where
the herons stand to watch the geese fly overhead.