by the clamor
of December geese
who scrape the sky
on their bracing
dash for sunnier climes—
but wait a minute—
why?
Because they remind me
of all the others
out there
who sound
and who look just
the same in my mind,
only fainter,
because smaller,
farther away, grayer—
but who, in their
way, first reminded me
of these.
