A December Morning

How do I describe a flat gray white
sky on a December morning?
Or tell you how an arrow of geese caught
my eye as they flew in formation East
as though South no longer existed?
Or how I watched the Starlings
land on the wires that crisscrossed
the road above me while I waited at the red?
Or how I feel almost every day, no matter
the color of the sky, or the birds that pass through it,
but only, how often I find myself wishing
that you were simply there – to see it with me.

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