With a grey sky and heavy clouds behind him,
a weatherman holds a tennis ball
up to his head This will be the size of the hail!
Call the cat in.
Bring in the potted flowers.
I’ll close the blinds,
and switch on the fire.
The glass door shatters,
you say it’s just the wind
I chose to believe you.
Last night while we were sleeping:
I was a goose, and the lake was frozen.
You were you, and the lake was still frozen.
The lake like glass, the lake weeds coated in ice
you brought the goose bread. Again and again, and
the goose was always there waiting.
One year it stayed cold till April
and you ran out of bread.
After too many years
the goose thought the lake was his home.
You look at the goose.
The goose slips on ice.
A mother pulls glass
from the foot of a child.