Dark pencil lines
Scrawled on a tin cup sky
Rumpled as an old coat
Old man weather shoots
A few ice pellets fall short
As a new group of seven flys by
Young geese trying out test patterns
Soaring on steel-edged wings
Beyond brash city bridges
And red rush hour streams
Shrugging off cold storm clouds
It’s a season for new heroes
To race south with the sun
© 2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings
