listening to geese through the night, mist and north-westerly wind

all night long they were flying,
singing their signals, as they navigated
across the half-lit city
on, on to the north where
the barren land of winter will
spread a gracious table to nurture
if not to protect their future.

and i, wingless, only a witness
to the pungent smell of melting
soil, to the different greys
come to unfurl the life
dormant beneath the last
patches of rotten snow

say something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.