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Poem: MIGRATION

         Migration

They come like smudges of light
Sieved through ragged bar codes
            landing lights

Lurching down an invisible slide
Toward Jerusalem or St. Paul
            winter landing

To the airport at river level
Ground lights racing like lightning
down the runway

In morning they come over the hill
Flying aluminum sausages 
invisibly linked

Winter sausages from factories
In Seattle and France
            nose to tail

Funneling swarms of flyers
Into concave regularity
            rowed and columned

Stuffed like marbles
On Chinese checker boards
sausage stuffing

Tumbling loose
At the ant-hill terminal
            runaway agates

Jets screaming at each other
Leaping from the racing lights
            rumbling the lake

We stand frozen-footed
Watching the winter sky
            Worm-holed

The sky is empty
Of feather-flighted wings
            jet stormed

The last Canada geese
Wait for Tower clearance
            south bound

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