


Beyond Flawed Paws
We are flying north before winter
I am on the edge of the flock
The outside feather of the throng
Away from the main group.
But close enough
To sense that I belong
Even with my tired and aging wings
The congregation allows me to tag along
And they caringly bunch together
Sheltering me when the wind is strong
We are a humble and united colony
Paternally migrating in perfect harmony
As part of nature’s cycle of eternity
We soar above the flawed paws
Of the world’s sparring community
And beyond those sharp claws
Of their tragic and panicky community
Ivor Steven (c) April 2024























