A 10.30pm WALK

A 10.30pm walk

Tonight at 10:30 I went out

for my walk. In the distance

I heard a major commotion

of geese. At first I thought

a flock might fly overhead,

though the hour was far too late

for geese to be aloft.

But the sound wasn’t moving.

I heard a train’s rumble,

then its mournful horn.

A freight was crossing

the railroad bridge

over the Fox River

close to where the geese

were over nighting.

As I turned around toward home

I still could hear them fret and scold

in chaotic counterpoint with

the diesel’s basso continuo.

And the stars tonight burned

bright holes in the sky, decorating

bare tree branches overhead

like lingering holiday lighting.

After the train had rumbled off

to where nocturnal trains all go,

the neighborhood assumed a hush

perturbed only by my footsteps.

Hardly anything is quieter

than distant sleeping geese

and star-bespeckled trees.