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.
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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.
Comments are closed.
This poem brings fall’s comforts to me.