At 7: 36 A. M. I heard geese.
The unmistakable honk-honk
demands, DEMANDS, attention.
My shiny new edition of
Elizabeth Bishop: The Complete Poems
slid to the floor, protestingly.
Mesmerized, as though sleep-walking,
I ran to the glass door
and there they were:
changing from perfect
V’s into perfect checkmarks
back into chaos
and then back into perfection
and yet back again
in the matter of seconds.
No airforce precision drill
exercise could compete.
Unusual to see
them this close to the city.
Why this place?
Why this moment?
Overcome with emotion
and not really understanding why,
I watched as the last ones
moved out of vision.
I could not express my wonder
until now.
The quietitude they left behind,
the stillness in the atmosphere,
seemed resonant,
vibrated freneticly,
until once again
the birds resumed their caroling,
the clouds carried on their voyage
across the sky
to India, to China, somewhere exotic,
I'm sure,
and Elizabeth Bishop’s exquisite
voice summoned me back
to my reading chair.
Sonny Rainshine
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/morning-geese/
