The Echoes
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com
When I was lost
I saw a V of Geese ride the eddies
one of them struggled but they kept shape
they are heading to somewhere warmer to survive
in the coldness of grief my nest is a begging bowl of emptiness.
Sky offers keys to escape ourselves and should you find a feather
take that feather, take that gift for the torturous current.
I read of a widower who removed his partners things
when all was done, he wept at the echo but knew
these are not hauntings, they are deaths music.
Leave a Reply