Photo & Poem: Beginning the Fall

A heat so profound that horses
were knocked back, sheltering
all day in small shade, relief for
the sparse pasture. The pond

clatters with three Canada goose
families, four Great White
Heron, too many ducklings
to count, while the pond shrinks

by the day. Its edges exposed,
its base becomes beach as the
water recedes, the fishy odor
of marsh plants drying wafts

over the prairie; an oasis fading
to a driveway mud-puddle.
Purple-gray clouds and thunder
give small rains, passing quickly,

leaving the ground thirsty, the
prairie grass gone to yellow. And
the constant haze of smoke, fires
to the west. The joy of welcoming

birds is shallow, knowing they did
not will to come here, so much
as escape a thing even drier and
colder, but also headed this way.