When The Last Flock Flies - Poem by Mick Zerr
The sky is Nature's billboard,
Changing with the seasons.
Begging us to peer skyward
Offering us endless reasons.
Fall is fading, Winter looms ahead.
The birds are fat from endless feeding.
In fields and trees they hastily fed,
Readying for a southern greeting.
Squads of, black and red, rufous and white
Forming 'V's and lines so long;
Honking and squawking, day and night,
Composing a wondrous season song.
With haste the sky will turn its tune
From glorious sounds and singing wings
To winters snows and howling glume,
Leaving us the cold it brings.
Soon the fading V will be out of sight.
We'll be gazing then at empty skies,
Wishing we could have joined the flight,
When the last flock flies.
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