The Geese are Leaving Again

A long ago autumn day,
just you and me,
walking in slow wonder
by sand and sea.

So much of your mom in you
and yet still some of me,
the best and worst of two,
combined perfectly in you.

The geese are migrating,
flying, to fresh feeding grounds.
Leaving us to live here, off out of sight.
Wild geese moving on.

I walk again the path from beach to cliff,
clay and lime shale worn sleek
up to where the wild grasses grow,
View across to Colt and Shenick

You climbed gamely legs pumping
in blue wellingtons, I recall and jeans.
Hair a mess of blowing curls
and eyes full of unattainable dreams.

Geese passed us in formation,
their wing beat resonate on still air
the sounds of the coming north
the journey. The despair.

Did you go with the geese,
are you in the north, ready to return.
I stand alone now on bitter ground,
the geese are leaving again,

© Dave Kavanagh @

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