We Move On By Jim Farfaglia
Luckily, I caught a glimpse
as the four or five of you
traveled my yard’s wooded edges,
playing follow the leader;
one foot—scratching, scratching—
after the other,
thin necks probing the unknown,
beaks pecking out an uncharted path.
For a moment, I admired your bellies,
so full from a bountiful season,
and your feathers with mysterious markings.
But, true to your nature, you did not stay:
Called to where life leads,
you took your mystery with you,
leaving behind a lesson about searching,
about moving on.