six geese
fly true north
along the rocky mountain
spine of the west
in a loose v
below a low white sky
over the eastbound highway
I wonder how they know
which direction to go
how nice would it be
to have a sense of purpose
an instinctual knowing
of what place to fly to and when
we think we are so smart
we think we are so developed
with our stoplights
and our therapists
and diesel engines
and construction projects
and intercontinental
ballistic missiles
with big enough bombs
strapped to the tips
to explode the whole world
so many times over
but we do all this
because
we have no clear purpose
we chose destruction
and domination
because we don’t know
what else to do
so this morning
when I see the geese
and their perfect formation
moving so confidently
across the sky
I am jealous
of what they know
of what they have
ashamed of what we don’t