Sunday, 2 March 2014

Goose Feathers by Gary Every

The telephone rings late at night

and the beautiful woman I wish to be in love with

greets me with hello

making my heart go pitter patter.

Her words are punctuated by percussive raindrops

going pitter patter on the rooftop.

as she tells me excitedly she can hear a flock of geese

flying overhead.

The storm clouds are too thick

to allow the flock of migrating birds to be seen

but she holds the phone out the window

so I can hear them honking.

What is a flock of geese doing

in the middle of the desert?

What if the clouds part and reveal nothing,

but the honking continues

is there such a thing as geese ghosts?

The beautiful girl says good night

and wishes me pleasant dreams

as the rain slowly stops

and a gentle snow begins to fall

plummeting far too soft for either a pitter or a patter,

snow descending and covering the earth

in a magical blanket  

with giant flakes as big as goose feathers.

Gary Every, Arizona, USA

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