Wild Geese

I loved to watch them fly, those wild geese. 

In my dreams, I was one of them. I felt the magic, the way to catch the wind, to soar above the roads packed with cars and trucks, all filled with angry people stuck, stuck, stuck. 

I woke up every morning, arms splayed, sheets kicked off the bed. 

As the days passed, I was certain I could hear something as I walked past the geese swimming in the lake. And I felt – lighter.

The days grew colder. Something was changing. I was changing. I was getting restless, and I was still hearing that something, something that was becoming clearer. The wild geese could hear it, too.

Something told the wild geese it was time to fly. 

inspired by: https://dversepoets.com/2024/05/06/prosery-something-told-the-wild-geese/