Agogic of Geese
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I am, somewhat surprisingly (to me, anyway) beginning a series of poetry-written-when-I-hear-the-geese-throughout-my-day.
I, simply I, I spy:
Into the blackening skies,
a lone goose flies.
So Hum.
I, I, I, I...
Just this.
I am
Endlessness
Copyright © Stephe Watson | Year Posted 2018
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