When I climb a hill of discarded ore to admire
a dead-gorgeous blue-green pond, I’m channeling
the thoughts of migrating grebes and mallard ducks
who cross the Great Basin Desert seeking refuge.
Surprise—this pond is man-made—the desert scraped away
to form a hollow filled with bright goo, acidic and salty
with mining residue left by men retired to rocking chairs.
When I investigate, the Mayor tells me to go away.
But harm to migratory birds is found in motion-triggered
digital camera traps capturing images—of ring-necked duck—
American avocet—black-tailed jackrabbit. All thirsty even if
just passing through the Great Basin Desert—like me.
Dave Seter is an environmental engineer, poet, essayist, and translator. He is the author of the poetry collection Don’t Sing to Me of Electric Fences (Cherry Grove, 2021) and the chapbook Somewhere West of the Mississippi (Mammoth Publications, 2025). He is currently serving as Sonoma County Poet Laureate 2024-2026. https://daveseter.com
