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A flight of geese—
broken black code
against the grey dawn sky
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THE DEAD ARE THIEVES, TOO They’ll pick your pocket clean, like that Ozark you left by the river. How many times do I have to talk to you? ... -
CIVILIZATION AND ITS’ DISCONNECTS Turn off your computer. I know, I know. I will cease to exist. I will return to my cave of shadows, ha...
3 comments:
I saw a flock
late, in the dim blue light,
above the old railroad bridge.
high ,high up, but right above me
, heading north , north.
following the river at this point.
A path taken by millions.
and a path taken by a few.
I just didn't know.
love it.
Thanks!
lovely, vivid poem, jbops!
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