Goose

Michael Pacheco

On a mound of dust,

Tied to a ruse

Water and grain

To loose this thing

Both straw and chain

Flap it away

and Pray . . .

When all is still you'll find the nooses

And you'll be freed from the secret

Evil uses

For as with the Earth and what it buries

The Wind chooses what it carries

On the Final Day

So raise that beak and breathe

Be Faithful Goose

To Your One True Muse.

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