Canada Geese by Terri Kirby Erickson

Early this morning, before anyone was about,
four Canada geese were grooming themselves

in the road. They pulled their feathers, one by
one, ridding them of dirt and drops of the rain

that had fallen during the night. And as they
shook and ruffled and preened, down drifted

from beaks and bodies into the moist air, and
stuck to the street like giant flakes of freshly

fallen snow. Then they turned in unison and
walked away, feet slapping the wet pavement,

heads held high like four old friends leaving
an upscale salon, certain they all looked good.



Terri Kirby Erickson is the author of six collections of poetry. Her work has appeared in “American Life in Poetry,” The Sun, The Writer’s Almanac, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Verse Daily, and many others. Her awards include the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize and a Nautilus Silver Book Award.