Here is something I wrote sitting by the pond last weekend. It is not based on a true story. It is one.

I hear the screams of children
Playing in backyards
In the distance to my left
In the distance to my right

I see a groundhog cross the lawn
He settles by a tree

Two ducks fly out from woods behind me
I heard their quacks and watched them go
A familiar hawk attacks in air
This bird I’ve seen before
The hawk returns, the ducks fly onward
It all stays undisturbed

Two finches on branches chase the blue jay away
Frogs croak from out of sight
Tadpoles weave through leaves on the water
Slowly becoming frogs

My brother wheels a barrow down
It leans to dump some rocks
A neighbor’s music disturbs the peace
But only if it steals my thoughts

Here is something I wrote sitting by the pond last weekend. It is not based on a true story. It is one.

I hear the screams of children
Playing in backyards
In the distance to my left
In the distance to my right

I see a groundhog cross the lawn
He settles by a tree

Two ducks fly out from woods behind me
I heard their quacks and watched them go
A familiar hawk attacks in air
This bird I’ve seen before
The hawk returns, the ducks fly onward
It all stays undisturbed

Two finches on branches chase the blue jay away
Frogs croak from out of sight
Tadpoles weave through leaves on the water
Slowly becoming frogs

My brother wheels a barrow down
It leans to dump some rocks
A neighbor’s music disturbs the peace
But only if it steals my thoughts