Thursday, April 6, 2017

poem of the day April 6


Geese flying north
after a long winter
up there high 
in the blue sky
I have been watching
the migration for
a few days now
Who taught them
to fly north for the summer?
Is it a bird thing
I can hear them squacking
as they roll over the meadow
Do they see me or am I
something that does not
get into their radar?

No comments:

Post a Comment