This is part of a new river poem sequence. Comments would be welcomed.
Today I counted 165 geese
swimming like an invasion flotilla upstream -
in that light they chose a dull day
though one in which
the river was calm and sharp to the eye
They moved in a single long line
with necks and heads aloft like masts
before feathered craft
that moved quietly in an agreed accord
that knew what came next
that knew I watched
with the confidence of those whose intentions
will not be changed
on a day when no other bird is present
bw
James
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