It was a gray and bleak
day, yesterday, winter's back
broken yet a late October
landscape for the gaze -
but for the ears, louder
than the wind, the songs
of migrating birds come
back to their summer home,
and the honking of geese
on the stretch of the road
where the songs were absent,
in them what eyes are denied:
A spring landscape, in sound,
after the long silent months
of shivering autumn, winter dark
when the birds had taken flight
before the snows from the withering
land, still bare but patches of snow
for the eye, no sign of coming green,
yet for the ear a landscape of spring.
29.03.2025
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