Pity the Human
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The journey of geese, now seen
Through Autumn seasons,
As it’s always been.
White chin-straps fly
Through snow.
They write on sky
A history we all know.
Down below they know,
Human eyes
Will follow them,
Wherever they may go.
With hearts and minds
That somehow can’t ignore,
The thought that they
Would give the earth to soar.
Pleading God, Entreating God,
Trade gravity For flight.
A one-way conversation
That will end
In dreams tonight.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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