migration

the single moments pass unnoticed
until one catches in a bright light
through the windshield and morning traffic
the rainbow in the sky
the creaky walk to the midday bathroom break
the soft fall of night with tea and these words
finally released to the page.

like oliver’s wild geese
i chase these moments
as they flap
strong-armed
through my day and out the other side

i stand silently in their wake
torn by their inevitable passing
too mesmerized by their migratory spell
to see that even the dull ache
of my office chair
has wild goose magic

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One thought on “migration

  1. Eric says:

    “oliver’s wild geese” ~ Mary Oliver?

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