February 05, 2009

Even through the summer storm

wild geese imagine the moon and
row toward it, writing
lines of poetry.

Against the gothic clouds they sketch
sestinas, every stanza
beginning with the letter “v”.

They search the lightning-punctuated sky
for words that rhyme with
“flight” and “night”.

—Carol Clark Williams
previously published in Mad Poets Review, Vol. 20

Posted by dwaber at February 5, 2009 01:44 PM