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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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