Once more the geese are arriving in lines of code,
neatly arranged, elegantly tapered,
announcing the passage of another season.
We arrive in our bodies - unable to outrun them,
unable to shake the pressure to become ever less,
unable to shake the desire for it to take forevermore.
We arrive in a world of opposites,
where objects of faith require belief
in nouns and verbs, in locks and keys,
in opposites of all stripes.
We arrive between the north - south poles
of complex - simple, loneliness - connection,
haunted by dreams, desires, the certainty
we are missing a vital piece of code.
It may be why the arrival of geese
provokes the body to give a feeling to the mind,
a sense of falling into another world,
into a place, in which we are finally familiar.
Arrival
08 Friday May 2026
Posted in poems
Poetry on the run 