• victoriastokoe 6w


    A poem
    21 January 2021



    Lake ripples as flight leaves to roost.

    Heavenward, skyward to amber smudges

    fading, white whisps of destination routes.

    Formation headwind, compass has steered

    wings towards a high.

    Calls forth comrades to a V,

    not far to settle for the night.

    Heads tucked against the evening chill.

    Brood a silent feather, watching still.

    All present and with a stretch,

    red sunrise, flocks to heaven rise.

    Back to the lake, till the sun

    Dips once again below the sky.

    21st January 2021

    Victoria Stokoe