I’m not sure about this poem. I wrote it the other day after going down to the lake to write something about feeling close to nature and the beginnings of the autumn season. It ended up like this, as a reflection on what it is to be. – How long does it take before we occupy our ‘place’ in reality, before we can confidently say: ‘I see.’
waiting geese fly as the wind blows as autumn crosses the road as winter’s echo crawls underground imagine it takes more than one quick breath to fall in love with what you see and takes instead a life of waiting in the space that’s becoming you standing here is an easy bliss for me imagine geese fly because they know the wait and the time it takes to get here - lakeside as the wind blows and autumn crosses the road
WriteShed 