I’m not much of a bird watcher,
and their names I do not remember,
but one day late in September
stretched out like a lawn chair,
I looked up to what was going on,
in the air;
tight flying formations
and silvered tipped wings
like a group of jet fighters,
and then there are the ones
that climb a sky’s ladder
till gravity can hold them no longer,
and they come hurtling down
like a squad of dive bombers;
then there are the others
wing spans like an airliner,
I don’t know how they manage
not to crash into one another,
but I imagine somewhere
there must be an air-traffic controller.
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