Rape of the Swan Pond

Rape of the Swan Pond

I slave pick numbers on a plantation
Escape my cube sour orange mental tired
The dingy high rise spits me to the street
I join the angry swarm to compete my way home.

Elms had no leaves to hide it in winter
A slender shimmering slice glimpsed from the highway
The pond lay just below a meadow hill
It was then I vowed visit, some cool summer eve

From a whim came a weekly diversion
To walk the hoof beaten cow path to solemn shores
Where elms encircle the pond like bleachers
A cathedral to sooth and cool a damaged soul

Lilly pad pontoons for fat resting frogs
Tadpole tails stir the bottom as they wriggle
Neon damselfly zips madly about
Spears of cattails part way for the feeder brook

Arched neck like a glassblower’s handiwork
The head lowered in graceful prayer and communion
Adjoining his white throw pillow body
Paddle to and fro, not obliged to stay or go

Books claim the Trumpeter Swan mates for life
But like me he has no mate to share this journey
Did we choose or was it thrust upon us?
Presently we abide in lonesome dignity

A “grow or die” town sprawls and devours
The summer turns to fall and change must surely come
Money takes what consumers desire
So disharmony came to the peaceful swan pond

Now a black pipe drains into brown mud soup
Caked dirt is ugly on the yellow bulldozer
Tread ripped puddled road surrounding the pond
Thin beige vinyl houses are replacing the elms

But I take heart for I have saved wisely
After the coming downsize when I am forced free
Quest for a swan pond and build my cabin
Devout custodian to sacred harmony.