Friday, March 23, 2007
Every morning, through the day and again each evening we always get a whole flock of geese flying overhead. You get that way, that you start to listen and wait for them to fly over. You certainly notice if they don't. This is where this poem came from.
Living out here in the country
In the hills all lush and green.
Each day I see the geese fly east
To a place I have not seen.
In the evening as the sun sets,
I hear that haunting honking cry
Heading west, to where they know best
And in passing they say - Hi!
I have often wondered why it is,
The geese do this every day
Then I remember it’s that time of year,
Soon they’ll be gone and on their way.
Eric Valentine Sept 19/03 ©