We see them again now— inked V of geese
brushing against the sky, turning
the flyleaf toward winter.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
We see them again now— inked V of geese
brushing against the sky, turning
the flyleaf toward winter.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
This poem brings fall’s comforts to me.