A Long Line

By Richard L. Provencher

Mon, 28 May 2012
  • 819 reads
2 comments
 

of geese stampede through November
clouds, arising from an early
Alberta morning

their V-formations a Royal wedding
scudding south, leaving
memories of green pastures, salient
lakes and a
wilderness of plenty.

An ancient path leads across borders,
states and hidden sloughs
where a fury of sound awaits, hunters
in suits of deceit
planning new rules of engagement.

Within the confusion, tired wings
flee rest, losing leaders
in quick succession
and soon, too many vagabond
warriors lay face to face in stillness.

And somewhere beyond the voice
of shotgun thunder, goblets of
exclamation begin toasting someone’s
misplaced manhood.

© Richard L. Provencher

First published March 2008
Creekwalker – Carlsbad CA

Certificate U
Story
POETRY - A Passage of Motion 3
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by jolono on
I liked the way it started and how it finished Rich. I wasn't expecting the last verse, but once read, it all came together almost as a Story! Another good one!

 

Submitted by Richard L. Prov... on
Hello jolono, you're right on the bit this am. Another way to put it is-- you're fresh as a daisy first thing in the morning. I enjoy expressions used in various places whether our own country or elsewhere. Right now, it is 8am in Truro, Nova Scotia. Your kind comments are always appreciated. Rich. PS. This poem is one of my anti-hunting poems, although I used to hunt twelve years ago before my reformation, via my stroke. I try not to nag, like reformed smokers. I never smoked, but I have friends who once smoked like chimneys, and who now constantly berate anyone who smokes. RLP
Richard L. Provencher