AND ON THEY COME - poem
By Richard L. Provencher
Thu, 21 Feb 2008
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1 comments
And on They Come
Mallards panic in descending
flight as a whirlwind
of hunter-guns come calling
and fear scatters across
Cooking Lake in rushes of three
and four. One desperate
wish, return to sky
before the end of days.
Soon, their flock of pride
streams high above in
a path of flight, well disciplined
“V” of flying wings,
like geese
capturing our delight.
© Richard L. Provencher 2005
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