Dec 3, 2009

Of Pond and Drought

The Pond and the Drought
Larry Reid


There is a pond
In a depression below
Into it tiny springs
and rainwater flow
While perched up above
a log cabin on high
Which sits on the hill
between pond and sky

And each was at home
in it's own little spaces
and pond top reflected
smiling, happy faces

There is a deep well
at the top of the hill
a cold-water well
500 feet they did drill
And said well feeds
the log cabin on high
which finds it's place
between pond and sky

Over the years
the drought settled in
rainwater stopped and
springs trace grew thin
and proud, mighty pond
once teeming with life
oh my goodness started fighting
a fight for it's life

And I in my cabin
constructed a perch
A high, lofty deckwalk
home to cardinal and finch
from this perch I spied
the pond and it's woes
I began to get worried
"What if away it goes?"

I concocted a plan
decided course of reason
pond level depends not
on hot or cold season
It counts on the input
of H2O bounty
a scarce, scarce commodity
in this midlands county
So how would we feed
the pond down below?
Wait for some rain or the springs to start flow?
No! I surmised
And said "what the heck"
I whooped out the hoser
and peed off the deck

The steaming stream ran down
toward pond with no sound
but alas disappeared
swallowed up by dry ground
"More", said I. "More!"
And started to swill
I drank and drank water
which fed from the well
So it became habit
to look out beyond
and pee from the deck
to try and fill up that pond

I peed through the winter
In summer's warm eve
I peed by my lonely
Or with Gary and Steve
I peed before bedtime
Or when I arose
I peed off that deck until
pond level rose
I peed and I peed
from that deck it did flow
and pond level topped out
as fat as she goes

Satisfied with level
I cut off the flow
Now I pee like a socialite
in porcelain bowl
At times I get lonely
for natural relief
to stand out in nature
to piddle on a leaf
I resist the temptation
because of one thing obscene
the once proud, proud pond
is reclassified a "Peend"

The End

3 comments:

El Cerdo Ignatius said...

Mr. Reid, one might be tempted to call you a "recycler" after reading that poem, which ranks up there with the works of Robert Frost, E.E. Cummings, Shel Silverstein, W.H. Auden, and Walt Whitman.

May your pond never again require such, uh, intervention.

Thomas Lawrence said...

I thought that pond filled up rather quickly...I'll be down soon, let you whip my arse in a round of croquet, and then I'll help you with your replenishment project.

Larry Reid said...

Thanks guys...now if you'll excuse me I have to hit the deck for a brief moment.