Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Reading Omens

No neat V due south

                        but a scribble of scattered lines

     swishing across the blank grey sky,

           spots enigmatic as tea leaves.

Is autumn leaving?

Winter breathing

cold and close?

              The geese will not commit.



Then a long, silent pause;

               no passengers overhead.


              Waiting.

            Wondering.



The nothing is

punctuated loudly

by a lone pair of geese

            no hurry

                             no hurry

                                              no hurry

winter is

                  still

                                far

                                            away.

time enough

restless edgy achy from the wait  time to unfurl sprout feel the sun shine