10/19

Almost imperceivable, night lightens into day 
and the first sounds are of birds stirring,

And now again is that time, simple delight
of geese wings overhead whirring, 

And I listen to the many voices, duets 
calling to each other, then to flocks. 

In the barely brightening daybreak mists, 
now again is that time, wakening to cracking shocks

And, from across the marshes, comes 
echoing to my ears that sharp, low thunder. 

And now listen to the forlorn call of one 
flying in unison with another no longer.