Gold Rush

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A thousand white geese in the sky
Like a train moving south
Never looking down
Nor to the side
They fly
Calling
Ahead
With
Bright
Trusting
Excitement
Tomorrow’s mist
Waiting for them all
Inviting them back to life
Joining their cherished train
Together all turning their backs
On the simple things they loved
They leave this place behind

Listening to their dreams
That draw us onward
So irresistibly
To a place
I can’t
See