I drove down to portland for the day with my dad, and while he was in a meeting, I sat in a park, got a sunburn, and watched a flock of geese. While reading this, you have to understand that my view was of a beautiful river, park, and animals, but over the river about half a mile away was a freeway, and I was constantly hearing the sounds of the city. It was a visual oxymoron. Anyway, it's just a quick thing I wrote concerning my feelings on pollution and the way we've industrialized even the most beautiful places. Enjoy!


Do geese have races?

I think they do.

They race through the water,

They play when you're far,

Their level of action,

Depends where you are.

The baby geese watch,

As elder geese swim,

And have fierce races,

'Cause only one can win.

In the very first race,

The younger geese lost,

For wearing yourself out,

Comes at high cost.

In the next few races,

Elder geese drop out.

For they are too old,

To be speeding about.

Then the middle aged ones,

Concede their defeat—

The water is too slick,

And the air hard to breathe.

Who are the winners?

Not the geese, it's true.

Do geese have races?

I think they do.