The geese flew north­ward home,
as the rains came down and quenched the ground,
and the winds bemoaned a lullaby.

The trees bowed down their lofty tops,
and the sun­burned leaves fan­dango farewell,
as the geese flew north­ward home.

The rivers rushed down to greet them,
and the curlews cried and cheered them on,
as the geese flew north­ward home.

Ticker tape leaves lay out a parade,
with a car­pet of clouds to has­ten their way,
as the geese flew north­ward home.

They squadroned a skein of for­ma­tions,
and the cur­rents caressed their wings,
The brown and black Peaks, to match their beaks,
as they flew north­wards home.

© Alexan­dra Carr-​​Malcolm 2015

Picture credit:https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/460985711831792188/

Of the woman –

mother and father to children;

who plastered walls, repaired teddy bears,

ran a business, ran a home, studied,

got a degree, did all three,

strong, independent, confident.

I am glad you are dead

and you did not witness the decay,

of each passing day.

Lone by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

2016