On a cold black February evening
We saw the snow geese flapping west
Silent but for a single call.
Their white bodies caught the city light
And with their wings– pushing to the west,
Tossed it down to us.
In their perfect and classic formation
They flapped silently to the west
And appeared like white, living stars
A moment that we shared together
And we may never again see them go west
Feeling the warmth of their passage.
But the memory remains
As a luminescent promise of the west,
Of unexpected joy and possibility