Landing on Ice
by Belle Schmidt
The Canada goose circled,
lowered his landing gear
and made a final descent
into the wind, coming in low,
he touched down
on the ice-covered lake.
He applied full brakes and
skidded like on skis
wings a’ flapping,
there was no stopping.
Slipping and sliding,
he honked an apology
to the audience on shore
as he did fishtails
into the cattails.
He continued,
honking his displeasure
as his right foot
slid sideways
from under him.
And, when he attempted a
forward step, his left foot
veered off at an awkward angle.
Wouldn’t it be nice if he had
some Mammoth Crocs and
a pair of wooly socks?
by Belle Schmidt
The Canada goose circled,
lowered his landing gear
and made a final descent
into the wind, coming in low,
he touched down
on the ice-covered lake.
He applied full brakes and
skidded like on skis
wings a’ flapping,
there was no stopping.
Slipping and sliding,
he honked an apology
to the audience on shore
as he did fishtails
into the cattails.
He continued,
honking his displeasure
as his right foot
slid sideways
from under him.
And, when he attempted a
forward step, his left foot
veered off at an awkward angle.
Wouldn’t it be nice if he had
some Mammoth Crocs and
a pair of wooly socks?
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