We call it Goose Poop Park because
The landscape has been commandeered by fowl
Of the aggressive Canadian variety imposing laws
Of territory with slow stalk, hissing growl,
And fecal sidewalk overlay. Navigating
That with a stroller and independently-brained
Humans relatively new to the planet while mating
Rituals by the avian occupiers ensued trained
My mind on times driving from work when a goose
Family had chosen the road median as home.
I glanced with jealousy at the gaggle, their loose
And easy middle-grass fecundity in the weekday gloam.
I didn’t know our goslings were on the way.
They poop enough to rival the migrating fray.
