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the certainty of geese

i look up, watch the V

cross the sky

black and white heads 

arrows pointing 

towards what’s next


getting closer  

then disappearing

into a scrawl

an ache

honking with purpose 


flying like they know

like any of us know



___________________


Originally published in The Orchards Poetry Journal, Summer 2023.

©2025 by Wren Jones.

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