I walked a road I’d walked before,
With gold leaves at my feet;
A flock of geese soared overhead,
Their trumpets clear and sweet.
The chilled, blue sky held up their wings,
I pondered where they slept;
I’m sure their special hideaways
Are secrets all well kept.
I swept my path with frozen toes,
And carried on my way,
Deciding that a morning walk
Should always start my day.
For things we think we know about,
So frequently unseen,
Are crystalized in dawn’s gold light,
Like evanescent dreams.
© 2006 Nancy J. Bond