Wild Geese on a Gray Morning by Patricia J. Boyle The geese fly low overhead, calling to each other with trumpeting blasts. They flap in rhythm, heading east in ragged formation, two lagging behind. The still air feels damp and cool on my skin. A thick sheet of cloud hides the rising sun. Void of color, the honking silhouettes rise and fall beneath the ashen sky. I gaze at their retreating forms, held in place by undulating motion and lonely cries. The melancholy sound sinks into my bones. In silent communion, I yearn to fly.
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I’m Patricia J. Boyle, a writer from Livermore, California. I write mostly poetry and fiction, and this year Russian Hill Press published my young adult fantasy novel called Traitor in the Realm.
The poem I’m going to read is about the beginning of my undergraduate experience at Cornell. Five hundred students attended my high school, but there were over ten thousand undergraduates at the university. Freshman year was an exciting time yet a little scary.
