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Cranes Over Galilee
Muscled flesh of migrating cranes
decorates the air above our valley
twice yearly we watch their squadrons
their flowing flapping arrows bringing
news from Lake Victoria
messages from the Black Sea
how the little ones had grown so quickly
about the scarcity of fishlets this year;
exchanging flavors of grub and tadpole
the funeral of old Kylos, the wing leader
and how tears had hushed
even the fretting newly hatched
warnings too, about humans to be avoided,
who throw rocks, fire shotguns, yell barbaric threats;
and those to be respected, that scatter corn cobs
on stubbled fields, glint only through
snapping glassy eyes
We watch them arrive and depart each year
above our valley, our tribal wars, our fences
and fortifications mean nothing to them
Mapped out as we are between hills, lakes,
feeding or resting grounds
The higher we fly we realize how fragile
our ownership of these merging landscapes,
these changing seasons. All our efforts,
our patchwork scratchings on the terrain
fading into obscurity beneath the rushing
clouds of territorial imperative
© Johnmichael Simon
2007
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