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:
Heads held high,
dots for eyes,
the porches, line
the lawns, ever alert
for the gawkers
They never move,
nor honk, nor
but in their cold,
seem to know
who dare even
steal a glance.
(originally published in Capper's)
Today's word: gawkers