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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