GREY GEESE FLYING
Late afternoon,
The geese only now flying
Over the meadow.
Their faint calls
Barely breaking the silence.
Yet, the cat,
Supposedly sleeping,
Instantly lifts his head.
Dandelion paws
Darting down the garden,
Gold eyes burning
With the desire to fly,
To catch those
Faraway geese
And kill them.
©2021 Gwen Grant
Poems by Gwen Grant 
That the geese. And that’s the cat. Love the cat but glad it cannot fly.
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Me, too.
Gwen.
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Me, too!
Gwen.
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