Monday, November 05, 2018

When the Geese Go




Written on a blue paper sky,
late autumn sentences spelled out with twigs,
punctuated by small, black birds.

A sketch of leafless trees,
colored pencil straight,
lined up in shades of gray and brown.

Tales of a winter hillside,
an ice-skimmed pond,
geese listening for their cue

to close the book,
leaving silence and snow
behind.

9 comments:

Out on the prairie said...

I so love your verse, have missed seeing you much.Still have some big flocks around all headed south.

Tabor said...

Your word picture are so much better than my actual photos of the same thing in the last post I made!

Barb said...

Goodbye fall! It snowed in Breckenridge, so I think winter is knocking on the door. The geese are long gone.

Molly Bon said...


I found myself transferring these verses from nature to life as I am certainly in the Autumn thereof. Your word pictures are beautiful. And I'm really happy to see you posting again!

Wisewebwoman said...

How beautiful is this!

XO
WWW

Pauline said...

Thanks, OOTP - I seemed to have been caught up in the whirlwind of life. Now the days are shorter and darker I may actually spend more time indoors, writing!

Thanks Tabor - I find that hard to believe but will pop over and see your pictures :)

Barb - your seasons keep a different time. Will come by and read soon :)

Molly - you have inspired me to start posting here again. I used to write every week - how lax I've become!

WWW - thank you. I will pop by your site, too and feast on your words.

Pauline said...

Barb - hoping all is going well with treatments. I saw that comments were closed on your blog but wanted you to know I was thinking of you...

Barbara said...

Your words make me feel the cold pensiveness of winter. You have such a gift!

Pauline said...

Thank you, Barbara - I love winter!