Pin-drop life spent among
transient sandhill cranes.
My legs struggle to keep up
on the migration north from Bosque del Apache.
This existence is beautiful
because I declare it so.
Not for the bird songs.
Not for the tourists viewing with binoculars.
So we cross the Platte
headed to marshes north of interstate ninety.
Minnesota’s ten thousand lakes.
Michigan’s upper peninsula.
And all over Canada.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney