In a lopsided V
four Cygnus buccinators
flap northward.
The sun is high. The air is still.
Our thermometer reads -20 F.
Cruising at rooftop-level
their large white bodies undeterred
and their occasional honks resolute,
almost joyful.
In a lopsided V
four Cygnus buccinators
flap northward.
The sun is high. The air is still.
Our thermometer reads -20 F.
Cruising at rooftop-level
their large white bodies undeterred
and their occasional honks resolute,
almost joyful.