Putting tools away at the end of the day.
Pausing to watch the flocks of geese
flying out from gleaning the grain.
Heading for other fields unknown
Some fields are close and some are far.
They fill the sky from tree top to hill top.
The patterns and racket are beautiful 
but we know it won’t be for long. 
The cold winds come and the geese fly on.
The gloom of winter sets in.
We wonder where our geese go.
Secretly wishing we could fly away too.
Looking for the perfect sunset
and dream we will find it.
The dream is enough.
Not really!
A shake of the head at the thought
while closing the door to the tool shed.
Walking back to the house…
Maybe tomorrow?
I will look for the perfect sunrise. 

Photo and Poem by John Vass



November 2021 ~ Songs/Poems/Haiku
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