Red-Headed

I have not seen the
birds fly south this year, maybe
they have decided

to stay at home and
brave the harsh winter weather.
There is a strangeness

with formations of
geese silhouetted against
a bright cloudless sky.

Shading my eyes to
squadrons in formative deltas
with an open hand

I squint and admire
their sheer organisation
and loud debacle.

It is as if they
are privy to chthonic
secrets only known

to a select few
avian adventurers
who lead them away

to a promised land
drenched in exotic flora
and eternal sun.

I sometimes wish that
I was flying with them to
their mysterious

destination in
the islands of the sun or
wherever they go.