Open-ended
This is where
A whisper of warmth
The geese are finding their voices.
Broken cackles
on dark mornings.
A restlessness for the North.
And hidden shoots
unfurl in freedom.
Called into being
by a whisper of warmth.
The long night closes,
as a faint light
streaks the dawn.
And my broken voice
sings once more.
~ Lyn McCrave
Wild Geese
High through the drenched and hollow night their wings
Beat northward hard on winter’s trail. The sound
Of their confused and solemn voices, borne
Athwart the dark to their long arctic morn,
Comes with a sanction and an awe profound,
A boding of unknown, foreshadowed things.
~ Charles G. D. Roberts.
Janet Fogg / J.R.P. Fogg 