Winter Is Coming

I’m on the floor
looking out a glass wall
fronting the lake,
stretching, grunting
staving off
the disintegration
of old age

in the distance
on the opposite shore
dark, foreboding clouds
foreshadowing,

close to this shore,
geese paddle
in vee formation
warming off
the morning chill
staring ahead,
one after the other

garbling amongst themselves
“winter is coming!”
“winter is coming!”
“winter is coming!”

a flight lifts
from the water
flashing white splashes
over the dark surface,
joins others, forms up,
vies for lead position,
circles, heads south

don't they know
the forecast calls for
good weather
this weekend?

September 2017

 

 

     

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