I look up from the old park bench
on the first day of spring
They flock
in perfect formation
white feathered bullets
like silent shadows across the calm azure sky
gliding together
without a word
a gentle dance
smooth and relaxed
though each knows how hard the journey
to beat one’s wings against the wind
for a destination to come
and a future unknown

I look up from the old medical unit chair
on their first day of school
They flock
imperfect formation
white short-coated exclamation points
like nervous emboli across the busy pale hallway
clustering together
with hopeful words
a frenetic shuffle
stochastic and excited
as each will learn how hard the journey
to beat one’s wings against the wind
for a destination to come
and a future unknown

—Eric Cadesky, MD, CM