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The Certainty of Geese

I look up, watch the V cross the sky,


their black and white heads, arrows


pointing towards what’s next,      


getting closer   


then disappearing into a scrawl,           

an ache, honking with purpose, flying  

like they know, like any of us know.


Published in The Orchards Poetry Journal, Summer 2023

Photo by Tim Umphreys on Unsplash


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