22 January 2009 | Vol. 8, No. 4

Geese don't collide, they said, it's impossible

Above the Willamette

two groups of geese collided.

I wanted a war in the sky.

I wanted to see the weak

slip through the air like dead

birds to the tempestuous water,

not that pathetic confusion—

the stupid shapes they make.


A girl watching

wanted what I did.

She said so

on her way to leave.


And we all thought of the body

that could have been

beneath the pile of leaves

my feet strew about,

of how I would trip over it

had it been there.


Down the path

a raccoon looked

at us briefly then

walked aimlessly past,

the back of his leg

a surprising red.

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About the author:

Robin Jordan fled Chicago suburbia to pursue her MFA at Oregon State University, where she also teaches writing. This is her first publication.

For further reading:

Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 8, No. 4, where "Geese don't collide, they said, it's impossible" ran on January 22, 2009. List other work with these same labels: poetry.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

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