They're Watching

I used to see them all the time.

I could hardly set foot out the door without encountering one ... dressed as Santa Claus ... as a witch ... a clown ... a cowboy ... as almost anything ... or anybody ... except what they really were: concrete geese.

And now I can't even find one of the photos I took of them.

I can't imagine where they've all gone ... flown south for the winter? Oh, I hope not. The very thought of them aloft scares me a bit.

Perhaps the fad is ebbing. But while it was here, almost everybody ... at least in my neighborhood ... had at least one ... sometimes more.

Understandable then, that I eventually gave in and wrote something about them ... and here it is:

THEY'RE WATCHING

Concrete geese!

Heads held high,

unblinking

dots for eyes,

they guard

the porches, line

the lawns, ever alert

for the gawkers

wandering by.

They never move,

nor honk, nor

even threaten

hostile action,

but in their cold,

concrete hearts

seem to know

the intentions

of those

who dare even

steal a glance.

© 1998

(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: gawkers