From My Window at Dawn

My thoughts on the wing of a Canada goose

Flying over my frost bitten lawn…

            Fleet feathers laden with messages

I sent from my window at dawn.

 

            His wings in perfect oar strokes

Head south across the bay

            As the first rays light his trail

And the mountains bow to day.

 

            His silhouette much smaller now

Traversing Puget Sound.

            My thoughts all but invisible

With miles ‘fore they touch down. 

 

            Weather vane-like posturing

Insures his steady pace,

            Over rivers, glens and mountain tops

Veiled in tatted snowy lace.

 

Soaring high above Klamath

And past the Willamette,

My thoughts and swift-winged messenger

Near those I can’t forget.

 

            Three hundred miles past Shasta

The feathers shall unruffle…

            Molting clear to Ensenada,

My  thoughts to you unshuffle.

 

            If you espy my Christmas goose

With thoughts I need to hear …

            Wish it to his wings in flight.

He’s headed back next year.