Poetry in flight

				At twilight, more night than day,
				I hear the unmistakable sound
				of geese toward the west.
				Darker than the sky,
				two Canadian geese fly
				overhead, honking loudly and though
				others might think them lost, I know
				before night consumes light, they will
				swim on Lake Cumberland.

				After daybreak the next day,
				thinking about you, I turn around,
				look up, again toward the west
				into a blue promise sky,
				and two geese, the same two, I imagine, fly
				past. My thoughts go with them; go toward you,
				away from the east and its red glow,
				dawning. All that I could ever feel
				for a woman,

				I read into the poetry of their flight.