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Poem | North for Geese

Monday, August 07, 2017

North for Geese

It is late and I’ve lost my way
but do not think to follow the sun–

I slip along hedgerow and snow fence,
I am a secret and a theme–
A movie to be longed for–
Come and see–

All these glowing houses
push back the falling blue–
Here is what was promised:
–Milk
–Bread
–Greens
and all their dreams
a grocery list–

Winking, I am sunset–
I gather light like berries,
my wayless walking, a wind
in last year’s leaves–

Winter churned sun chairs
along a great white drift, now
a backstop for a boy
only his shirt tail and
ball rolling, a stroller and bike spinning–
called inside.

I leave my ghost footprints
and squirrels think Me
the source of their
miraculous stores–

Among the dinner, and dirt,
and clean clothes raining
dogs nod toward me then
ignore me for sticks
and tails–

But
I block the Moon;
I am North for geese;
a Goddess
because
he sees me.

– Teresa Kiplinger


See how I interpreted this poem into a silver cuff bracelet here.


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