A starred review of Canada Geese

Behind my house, there’s a long field that becomes a pond after heavy rain, and a marsh a few days later. Ahead of it are two more retention ponds. This is effectively a gallery for Canada Geese. I’ve seen their graceful V’s in the sky and their elegant heads and necks, and I’ve seen the fragrant droppings over clumped grass that they leave behind in their honking wake. I sympathize both with the malicious image of the goose contained in Untitled Goose Game and the aspirational image in the Mary Oliver poem. Continue reading A starred review of Canada Geese