Cacophonies of geese derail my thoughts.
I stop and turn to look, approach the shoreline,
listen: many voices, intonations,
calls. Some glide together, murmuring.
Can’t make sense of what they’re saying. Others
synchronize their clamor, pick up speed,
flap and splash their way across the pond,
lift off as one, their wings the sound of wind.
I try to join the party, imitate
the chatter of those left behind,
but they ignore me. Suddenly self-conscious
(honking like a goose is not in fashion)
I turn to look. She’s looking at her phone.
I stand between two worlds… alone.
by John W. Steele
Editor’s note: The unconventional enjambment employed throughout this blank verse sonnet puts the reader off-kilter, skillfully foreshadowing the narrator’s emotions in the closing lines.