Because we did not drown today in a violent flash flood
nor contract hanta virus nor botulism,
because we were not tracked down and dismembered
by a mountain lion nor bitten by mosquitoes with West Nile,
because there was no hurricane, no earthquake,
no mudslide, no irate employees in the post office,
because both your heart and my heart continued
to pump rich blood through our bodies,
well, that seems reason enough to sit here
on the porch tonight and marvel at the world—
all those diving and banking green backed swallows
and the way the light shines through crab apple leaves
and the scent of the river and even that strangled sound
that the geese make—wouldn’t you say we are lucky,
my god, blessed beyond blessed to sit here
and fall in love with life not out of any sense that our time is short
but just because the field is full of green and gold
and the garden is free of gophers for now, and
the lawn has been mowed and there are no killer bees
in the yard, and there’s no tsunami, nope, not even a tiny chance.
“that strangled sound the geese make…” is exactly what I think they sound like. Nice that they could fly a V through this poem, right where they did.