Lost Geese

The screech of lost geese
Swallowed by the fog is
The only sound not stifled
In the thickening sickly night.

Softened streetlights serve only
To blur silhouettes of trees still bare,
The air shivers slightly in the drifting mist.

A black cat stalks, unintentionally blending
Into pavement almost as dark,
Senses sharpened by the screech
Of lost geese.


8 Responses to “Lost Geese”

  1. tamekamullins Says:

    I see an older gentleman walking through the park at night hearing these geese. Nice!

  2. Ah.. the wild and free cat with senses and emotions.. sparked to jump.. at the slightest moves for survival.. knows no fog alone in feeling and sensing the differences.. that can hide moves more invisible.. from the prey of mice… or the predator of dog.. in a circle that only knows life.. in fog or not..:)

  3. hypercryptical Says:

    Excellent write. Geese or not – tis awful to be lost.
    Anna :o]

  4. Great imagery…makes me shiver a bit.

  5. I like how this is book ended with “the screech of lost geese”. i go for walks in a marshy conservation area nearby where hundreds of geese have settled…the sound is outrageous at this time of year.

  6. I like how you tied the screech at the end to the beginning.

  7. Really like the way you’ve captured this mood…

  8. Spring is not just the gently breeze.. there is something so special with the passing geese.

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