Monday, November 10, 2014

#Microblog Mondays: Migration

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Migration

At first I thought they were flying north. 
Then west. 

I tried to get my bearings.

They doubled back and over themselves, weaving bird
through bird, without direction, but with
purpose; twenty, fifty, a few hundred:
squawking greetings like so many Asian tourists,
or relatives in friendly arguments
about the best route to take,
circling, finally landing,
a cascade of wings and bodies into the water,
gathering their numbers to divide again into perfect Vs, the arrows
that point towards warmer climes.

I laughed with them, an
outsider who gets not the joke
but the intonation,
wished them a safe journey,
and turned north
towards home.
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5 comments:

  1. Oh, this is beautiful and warm and friendly. I love the imagery of loud tourists or arguing families. Thank you for posting :)

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  2. I posted this on my blog, but I'll leave it here too:

    The Wild Goose
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TsOir-k12js

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  3. I do so love this, a bit of the mess and the warmth of humanity reflected in nature.

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  4. Have you read the Magicians yet? The first book? It's making me look at geese in a whole new way. Your poem adds to that, and I'll remember it the next time I see them flying.

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  5. It's like I'm seeing and hearing with you. Really beautiful, Justine. You are a woman of many talents.

    I'm sure they aren't on their way here. Brrrr --- it's minus 16!

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