Friday, February 6, 2009


Feathered calligraphy,
flying cursive
across slate blue air.

Wing-tip to wing-tip.
Dip, dive,
dance of perfect timing.


Falter - Question mark?
Recovery - Exclamation point!

Such joy of poetic motion.

Soon they will calligraphy South.
Snow will erase
their gentle cursive,
replacing it with
its own signature upon
the slate blue air.

Linda McGeary
(c) 10.29.99

(This was a large flock of small birds flying in formation. It is really a Fall poem, but I'm posting it for Kelly, who loves birds.)

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