Day 5: The Migrating Birds (The Departure)

 7 Days of Late Autumn | Day 5: The Migrating Birds

A sudden rush of wings splits the grey overhead. 

A sharp V cutting through the clouds,

 moving south, moving fast, 

following a compass stitched into their very blood.


They do not argue with the wind; they use it. 

They do not stay to see the snow; they flee. 

I look up from the cold pavement and envy their instinct—

 the simple, unburdened wisdom of knowing 

exactly when a place has grown too cold 

for you to stay.

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