‘V’ is for fall,
living arrows on a southward spiral,
pointing out the obvious –
Autumn arrives with strings attached.
Snows and North Gales
are on the end of that umbilical cord,
so ‘V’ is for fall;
make haste for calmer climes,
to natal stars,
leaving cracked eggshells
as a deposit
I live beneath an incredible migratory path – this time of year, the skies are resonant with honks and wings of untold number. Their annual pilgrimage marks the seasons for the mortals who toil beneath their flight path.