The Way Home

Green dragon (Arisaema dracontium) chris gonso

Left the windows down in the truck
Hoping it would bring the rain
Ground cracking in places

Found where the nanny berries had survived
In the wetland where they were given up lost
Nothing like finding what’s been given up lost

The birds are coming to nest
Everywhere we find them
In the grasses, in the goldenrod,
On the branches of the walnut, in the Jap plums
Under the eaves of the garden shed and along the rafters in the garage

My son wanted to put a fledgling back in its nest
I told him not to bother but do it if he wanted
He wanted to use a net and then got frightened when
The bird opened its mouth and made loud noises and was scared

So I had to come help
And I put my finger in right in front of the fledgling’s mouth
And, see, it doesn’t even want to bite and
“Do you remember that movie?” I asked him
“You mean Nausicaä?” he said
“Yes” I said
And I didn’t have to say anymore

My wife says there is a very beautiful toad
In the garden under the sun-room windows where the foxglove is blooming
I haven’t seen it

Oftentimes, I’ll catch a toad in a certain area then walk it over to my son and ask him
“Have you seen this guy?” And he recognizes most of them
Big, fancy, red-marked ones, ones mostly grey or with black or real brown
All with their own little areas

And now the tree frogs are calling real loud
But we haven’t held any yet this year

We held a skink the other day and still talk about the rough green snake
From last week that Judah pointed out when we were in the wetland

And last week the tractors with their mowers folded were
Moving down the road
And the next day I smelled the hay cut when I was driving home from work
And while I was driving I was noting in my day book
“How interesting is it to hear someone surrender all opinions?”

Because it is not interesting
Not interesting at all
When someone is completely ready to give up fighting for any opinion whatsoever
So after that I wrote in big letters
“Smell the hay”

And this probably doesn’t make any sense
But it doesn’t matter what I say



6 thoughts on “The Way Home”

  1. If I could name just one favorite line, it’s “Nothing like finding what’s been given up lost” … I found this beautifully crafted poem both tender and fierce, startling in its excavation

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