Sunday, September 1, 2013

Something Told the Wild Geese by Rachel Field


My 2 cents:

Something Told the Wild Geese

by Rachel Field

Something told the wild geese
It was time to go
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered “snow.”

Leaves were green and stirring
Berries, luster-glossed
But beneath warm feathers,
Something cautioned “frost”.

All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly
Summer sun was on their wings
Winter in their cry.

That poem is my favorite fall poem. I thought about it when a loud, honking “V” of geese flew over my head on the Friday before Labor Day, just at dusk. What fall means to me: my birthday, chilly nights and warm days, Indian Summer, school starting, football games (even if I don't go), shorter afternoons, a feel of poignancy, endings and beginnings, cozy nights under covers. Happy September.




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