Migration

She seldom noticed time,

It just a jumble of numbers,

Names that left, returned.

She studied skies

And reckoned by the sun's intensity

Or absence,

Her lover made a floating fire.


She felt a hunger,

Yet she felt a fear

That never left at five

Or took vacation,

An anxiety that knew no calendar

And tolerated no desire.


She watched another way

Slip down beside the sun,

Afraid to wander far,

To leave an eroded nest

With the September winds.


- 1/31/25

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