Lillian Susan Thomas
Senryu Series V: Migratory Lay-over
confused by rain-swelled ditches
reflecting full moon,
land in Danbury
amid honking louder than
rush hour traffic jam.
Slippers crunch on frost.
Coffee steam follows in my wake,
I grab morning news.
Crowds of black and white,
heads under wings, block my path.
Startled, they fly.
With wing flaps and honks
they rise, leaving feather debris,
droppings strewn on grass.
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