Flying South

** Image ID #2051665 Unavailable **


Now the ducks are flying south
The whiskey shot held in my mouth
For three seconds; then imbibe
Toasting a departing feathered tribe

Their acute angle slices the sky
The V formation is an ally
Helping the ducks to hasten
To a warmer destination

I, too, wish to leave a place
Too Inhospitable, and embrace
A sunshine bright place of hope
Void of every social trope

The daily news now never ceases
To spotlight human lives in pieces
The yellow press with us remains
Callously intrigued by misery's pains.

I sit back. In my place I stay
Thinking on what I've seen this day
Inside, clothed, clean, fed, and dry
I realize I also have a sky

With many books and varied friends
My soul mates love, which never ends
A home containing in each room
A spot for four felines to groom

Two young people, nearly grown
Who, from my path, remove each stone
Of ignorance; each by my side
And unashamed of what I'd hide

In my weakness, I am made strong
In no corner do I belong
I intend to laugh and dance
Take a risk; take a chance

When worldly cares bear down on me
Overcoming them makes me free
To raise up another bruised and sore
Is now my task. Open the door.