Scott Owens’ most recent poem to appear here was The Real Death of Superman (May 2011).
I didn’t see the V of geese fly overhead in the slate gray sky as I sat waiting for a reading in my Prius in front of the Royal Bean Coffee House & Gift Shop in Raleigh, NC.
What I saw was the V of geese presumably flying overhead in the slate gray sky reflected in the slate gray hood of the Honda CRV parked before me in front of the Royal Bean Coffee House & Gift Shop in Raleigh, NC.
And they took a long time to travel such a short distance, up one quarter panel, across one contoured crease, then the broad canvas of the hood’s main body, down the other crease and onto the edge of the opposite quarter panel before
disappearing into the unreflective nothingness beyond, where even they had to question just how real they were or just how real they might have been.
I just saw this, belatedly. My favorite poem I have read in weeks, months! I nominate it for all applicable awards, and for reading in quiet contemplative moments, like when one person goes out to fill the gas tank and the rest sit, staring straight ahead, clearing throats and waiting for the car radio to come back on. I am going to print it now and put it in my wallet for just such moments. I read it five times straight through, trying to figure out how you saw the front hood of the CRV if it was parked in front of you. Wouldn’t you be looking at the vertical surface of the hatchback? I have tried to write this poem at least 10 times in the last 3 years, as readers of my blog could tell you, and have succeeded perhaps to varying degrees, but never so fully as you capture the feeling here. Oh to be the observer in the car, and then the shiny metal surface, and then the geese, and then the reflection as it disappears from our sensory plane and slips into some other reality that neither confirms nor contradicts our existence, corporeal or otherwise. Bravo, Poet!
Ray, Sorry I didn’t respond sooner. Somehow I’ve only just now discovered that I can leave comments here. Thanks for your comment. To answer your perception question, we were parked nose to nose.
I love this poem and think I have seen this reflection or something similar but could never have put it into words like this. Lovely, Scott.
Thanks, Glenda. I take the familiarity suggested by the two comments the poem has received as testaments of resonance. I couldn’t hope for anything better than that.