sweeping across the sky
towards not south
arcing in ingrained formation
showing me rhythm, flight
surrender to the inevitable
slanted light now makes them look darker, blacker
the blue behind deeper
I should gather acorns in preparation for my own
find berries in my pockets
secreted by my daughter on cool autumn morning walks
she squirrels them away
must have plans
must know it is time to plan, to prepare, to stockpile
she understands things I never taught her
I never knew
another flock soaring high
screeching bird song
they spied on us for months
what will they tell their new hosts
what secrets of ours will they betray