Two more fragments:
There is a shimmer of diamond dust
A glimmer of something that placates my wanderlust
If only briefly, hope takes hold
Chiefly because of the glittering cold.
Then I see no more dazzle, no brilliance
Although I await her with patience-
Like a daintily potted daffodil
Standing stoic on a predawn windowsill.
It takes but one goose to lead the flock
And one wolf to turn them loose
Upon pastel skies.
In a flurry of sanguine fangs, a frantic
Tumult of down
They fly, southbound,
Much to the delight
Of the most
To ever walk
This storied Earth