Ever South
Yellow leaves swoop by the window like
errant canaries, confused, bruised, caught
in a ghostly whirlwind they rise and fall
swirling, hurling, snapping like a flag unfurling,
trapped taut against the window
caught momentarily, autumn comes to
stir things up, to disrupt, the end of
summer so abrupt, ruffling the feathers
of the glossy blackbirds who darken the sky
in swarms and herds, crowding on power lines
they huddle together as birds of a feather,
cawing, seemingly cursing the weather,
so many on the line, a snapshot in time,
etched into my mind, sublime,
taking flight en masse to head ever south,
south, to warmer climes as I hear the deep
tones of my Gregorian chimes, thrumming
tones that rattle breastbones, I count the
autumns that have come and go and
I know, I know.
©Danielle White
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