Pin It


Crickets. The occasional dying
cicada. Today, just at dusk,
a V-line of birds too high
to identify were heading south.
Days were when south was
any direction a young man went
that was away from where
he didn’t want to be.
Now, all it signifies
is where we go to live a little
less, warm windows, exotic
birds that never leave.

Speaking of...

  • Reader submitted poetry.


Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

Hudson Valley Events

submit event

Latest in Poetry

More by John Hopper

Hudson Valley Tweets