Through a Library Window While Reading Emily Dickenson

images.jpeg geese

A flock of geese flew gently by
within the falling snow.
Their V-formation in the sky
had many miles to go.

They were calling down to us
above a frozen lake.
How could they fly, one might discuss
with snowflakes in their wake?

A flash of point, then gone from view,
in contrast to the bright.
Their color seeming brown in hue,
an arrow in the light.

Then empty was the sky and ground,
both blending into one
blank page a pen had not yet found
to scrawl dark letters on.

~ by dianeklammer on February 20, 2013.

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