SoMa Literary Review - To the Canada geese that live in Oakland

To the Canada geese that live in Oakland

By LeeAnn Pickrell

You’re supposed to migrate,

spend summers in Canada. Instead you’ve

settled in Oakland, here at our urban

saltwater lake where I perch on a picnic table

eating a slice of pizza-caramelized onions, roasted squash, Gruyère

cheese. You stride over, honking, stand, waiting, indignant

(if you had hands they’d be on your hips)

that I’m not feeding you - and all your relatives - even a bite.

You have more children than Mormons.

I mention the bird flu, flying east from Asia. You,

however, don’t seem moved by threats. Don’t

you want to migrate? Neil Young sings about how they miss you

in Canada arcing over the plains. You could

still stop off - on your way south or north -

for a visit, a short one, three days but no longer, since company,

like fish, begin to smell then.

LeeAnn Pickrell lives Oakland and works as a freelance editor. Her work has appeared in various journals, including the Atlanta Review, Red River Review, Birmingham Poetry Review, Santa Barbara Review, and Driftwood. One of her poems was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.