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Posts Tagged ‘geese’

He trekked north

with the vernal sun

carving his name

across her sky

and as he touched

those new frontiers

she wondered, had anyone

conquered her so?

When spring returns

will the sun reach as high?

Or will it stop short

of her maiden arc,

and will she hear wild geese cry?

.

(c) 1996,  2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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She pretends the sun will stay

and those foreboding shadows

will not grow.

The geese in V-formation

that she saw this afternoon

weren’t really flying south.

Wildflowers still dance

between the rocks

and butterflies still light

upon the phlox

as honeybees

still swarm the mint

and bumbles take the clover.

She hums a rosy little tune

and fills her watering can.

 .

 © 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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.When she called his name

to the north wind

it roared

through the trees

and made her winter green.

.

When she called his name

to the mountainside

it rose

up the ridge

like a fever.

.

When she called his name

to the racing sky

it echoed

like a dozen geese

searching for a season.

.

When she called his name

to the ocean

it churned

to salt butter

on her toast.

.

When she called his name

to a sliver of moon

it hung like a lamp

on the dark side

of doubt

and this time she knew

that he heard.

.

(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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He trekked north

with the vernal sun

carving his name

across her sky

that she would not forget.

And as he touched

those new frontiers

she wondered, had anyone

conquered her so?

When spring returns

will the sun reach as high,

or will it stop short

of her maiden arc

and will she hear wild geese cry?

.

(c) 1996,  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

When she called out his name

to the north wind

it roared

through the trees

and made her winter green.

.

When she called out his name

to the mountainside

it rose

up the ridge

like a fever.

.

When she called out his name

to the racing sky

it echoed

like a dozen geese

searching for a season.

.

When she called out his name

to the ocean

it churned

to salt butter

on her toast.

.

When she called out his name

to a sliver of moon

it hung like a lamp

on the dark side

of doubt

and this time she knew

that he heard.

.

(c) 1995, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

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