Loons

How many years have we come here?
Forty for me, for you, seven.
We’ve never seen loons swim so near,

almost to where we stand by clear
lake water. You: “This is heaven!”
How many years have we come here

looking for wildlife, even deer,
eating gardens back home, but then
we’ve never seen loons swim so near,

dipping, diving, showing no fear
as we try to be quiet men.
How many years have we come here

to escape the rest of the year,
to touch without job-stress again?
We’ve never seen loons swim so near,

yet they keep alert—they know we’re
close. Will they fly? We don’t know when.
How many years have we come here?
We’ve never seen loons swim so near.

 

originally appeared in Main Channel Voices (2005)

Published by

Kenneth Pobo

Kenneth Pobo has six full-length collections of poetry and, including Ice And Gaywings, twenty chapbooks. His latest book, from Blue Light Press, is called Bend Of Quiet, and Booking Rooms in the Kuiper Belt is forthcoming from Urban Farmhouse Press. Ken began writing at age fifteen. He teaches creative writing and English at Widener University in Chester, Pennsylvania. He and his partner and two cats enjoy gardening, music, and the Wisconsin Northwoods. Catch Ken’s radio show, Obscure Oldies, on Saturdays from 6:00-8:30 pm EST at WDNR 89.5 FM.