A large flock of geese,
honks resembling
bamboo flutes,
swims beneath mercurial clouds.
The flock’s outline,
one ragged shark’s tooth,
cuts a deep wound
through January twilight.
Minutes later,
a single honk
follows the general direction
of the main flock.
Later still, light fades,
more honks,
in groups of two…
six…three.
All night long,
wild threads of geese
slowly unravel
the black mamba sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment