Left Nova Scotia again this week

The Great Lakes look like the eye of the earth

As my neighbors and I glide over them

The briskness of the high skies

Snakes through my feathers

Like small threads of ice

We stop for food and poops in Illinois

Ponds and schools have lots of snacks

The Yanks look at us like we run the place

The red and orange mosaics

of the Midwest fall leaves

Fade below us into green pastures

We have a timeshare in the Florida Keys

Hope the flamingos

didn’t leave the place a mess again

They are seriously such party animals.