Keening in a bruised sky,
ragged chevrons
follow the coastline south –
imperfect V’s, left wanting
on one side or the other –
testament, perhaps, to those taken
by foxes, hunger, double barrels,
their skeins unraveling autumn.
– Sarah Russell
First published in The Houseboat
Republished in Poems in the Waiting Room
Photo: Sunsetphotosgallery.com
Posted for dVerse Open Link
Sarah Russell Poetry 
I like this one, Sarah. Particularly from “left wanting to the end.”
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Thanks, Steve.
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Your vision of the flying flock is quite sagacious.
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Glad you found it copacetic, Ivor. 🙂
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Gorgeous, Sarah!
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Thanks, Al!
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Reblogged this on days of stone and commented:
Another wonderful poem from my talented friend, Sarah Russell. Please leave any likes and comments on Sarah’s blog, rather than here – I know how much they’ll be appreciated.
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Hey, thanks so much, Ryan.
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Most welcome 🙂
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Ah, those ragged chevrons – what a stunning image, Sarah. This is such a beautiful poem, so easy to visualize. Love it 🙂
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Thanks so much!
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chevrons and left wanting – perfect descriptions
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Thanks a lot, Beth.
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I specially admire the opening line ~ Gorgeous share Sarah ~
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Thank you, Grace. Going over to read yours now…
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I read it on Ryan Stone’s site. I was hooked by the strong image of “Keening in a bruised sky”
and then it struck me like a lightning when I read “ragged chevrons”, so powerful. Thank you for such beauty, Sarah! Love it all!! And I shall read more when I can.
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Thank you so much for coming over, Heather, and for your comments. I was thrilled when Ryan reblogged my poem. His writing is always wonderful.
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You’re very welcome. I love and write poems myself, but not as good as you. Ryan is one of my favorites on my blog, always feel good to read his poems. Now, thank you for following me first, I was enjoying your words and images and going to follow you. But you’re quick! 🙂
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Just a quiet night with a little stolen time. Love nights like this. Lots of catching up to do.
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A sumptuous write. The imperfect Vs conjured images of literate geese.
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I love your idea of literate geese. I think they get a bad rap. They mate for life, always post guards at each side of a flock when they are feeding, and certainly know how to conserve their energies by the way they fly. And they make great looking letters in the sky!
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Just lovely imagery – and all in one sentence – beautiful.
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Hadn’t noticed that it was one sentence, Peter. But mine do get to be run-on sometimes, so I’m not surprised. Thanks for stopping by.
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Wonderful imagery
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Thanks, Jae Rose.
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Perfect metaphor of the havoc humans have wrought.
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Hadn’t thought of that interpretation, but yes, it doesn’t speak too well of us, does it. And, in truth, we don’t deserve much praise. Thanks for the insight!
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The wistfulness of the unfilled spaces…autumn. (K)
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Autumn is always wistful for me. Yes, unfilled spaces. Thanks for stopping by, Kerfe.
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I loved the image of the geese… such a sure sign of fall.
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My husband has been looking and listening for them for a week now. We finally heard some last night. I love it when they are only specks in the sky, hundreds of them many times in a single line, and their call is almost inaudible, they’re so high.
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Oh Sarah…this is so beautiful and sad. Nature in all its beauty and its brutality. This is one of the best poems I have read about geese. Keening in a bruised sky, skeins unravelling autumn…so sad but yet, the geese continue on. There is much peace in this poem.
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Thank you so much, Toni. I love the melancholy of fall, and geese, for me, are its voice. Hey, that was kind of poetic, wasn’t it. Gotta write that somewhere I can find it again! 🙂
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yes you do. I never thought of geese as being the voice of fall but you nailed it! I used to keep a notebook by my bed when I would wake up with a poem in my head. I stopped that practice when I realized I couldn’t read 2/3 of it and I would deciper what I was saying the other 1/3!
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Same for me. One night I woke up with the perfect line that had eluded me all day. I picked up my iPad and tapped furiously. The next morning I could read the first 3 words. Then my fingers shifted right, left, up, down and the rest of the line was gibberish. That’s when I gave up.
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One spring we were hiking near Los Alamos, NM. We were in a canyon. We began to hear really unusual, sounds. The sounds would bounce off the canyon walls, become modulated. It was hard to tell where the sounds were coming from. We were confused. Later we were told it was the migration of the sandhill cranes…returning to the Bosque. They reach a certain point, and then, the energy(?) from the labs, confuse them. They turn back, circle, and eventually, I guess they figure it out? It was a memorable event for me. I have often wondered if we could return to that canyon, and hear again the sounds from the cranes? I don’t think so, you have to time it perfectly, and they don’t give reports of their progress.
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Wow! What an incredible experience. And sandhill cranes have such a unique call. I would love to hear them. I never have except in wildlife videos.
You live in one of my favorite parts of the world. I try to get to the Santa Fe/Taos area every chance I get.
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Whoa, Sarah! This is the most beautiful poem I have read in a while. Wish I had written that one, but I couldn’t. Absolutely perfect. That first line got me fast and the missing chevons….and reasons why grabbed me further. A beautiful piece of work, Sarah.
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Thanks so much, Jane. I loved yours this week too. Mutual admiration, I guess. 🙂
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follow the coastline south –
imperfect V’s, left wanting
They know their directions though not necessarily in perfect formations. Good observation Sarah!
Hank
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Just like some of us humans, I guess. Thanks for the observation, Hank.
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I’ve never thought of the shorter side of the V as being a tribute to fallen comrades. I shall look at migrating gear differently now!
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Thanks, Bryan. I guess it’s an anthropomorphic thought, but hey, we’re allowed to do that as poets, right?
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Absolutely!
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I liked the idea of the imperfect Vs as testament to those geese who were lost.
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I guess in the back of my mind (not conscious) I was thinking of the “missing man” formation done by fighter jets in a flyover. Thanks for reading, Frank.
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The bruised sky, the ragged chevrons….wonderful imagery.
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Thanks so much, Sherry!
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Lovely–and bittersweet. Those ragged chevrons!
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Thanks, Merril. I love to see (and hear) them. So many in the fall.
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Yes, the geese seem to be here all year now, but there still is something special about the fall flights.
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Love the visual… and the reminder that nature will always do her thing, even when all is not as perfect as (we think) it should be.
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Thanks, Magaly. Yes, nature, for good and bad, can be depended on.
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