Wednesday, September 26, 2007

First Flight

This month you hear the geese at night,
they’re headed south to winter pastures.
The spring-hatched chicks on their first flight

attend their leader’s cryptic gestures,
wing to wing with nestmates, while
they’re headed south to winter pastures.

In early spring I had to smile
at fuzzy, stripy gosling clowns
wing to wing with nestmates, while

their warm but flightless infant down
was molting into stronger feathers.
The fuzzy, stripy gosling clowns

have learned to fly in every weather:
the flutter of new-plumaged wings
was molting into stronger feathers.

It’s not the time when warblers sing.
This month you hear the geese at night,
the flutter of new-plumaged wings,
the spring-hatched chicks on their first flight.

11 comments:

PaulS said...

Very lovely poem. Evokes a subtle emotion with its clownish chicks and full soft language and conjures a sense of place and of season. Very nice.

Cloudscome said...

Yesterday I was on the playground at recess duty and I watched a flock of geese rise in a clump and organize themselves into one long arrow across the blue sky. Amazing how they do that.

"the flutter of new-plumaged wings,
the spring-hatched chicks on their first flight."

Sandy said...

Wonderful, so wonderful.

tumblewords said...

Ah, I see the picture. Excellent. Your words, as always, are inspiring and rewarding.

Patricia J. Mosca said...

A visual for the soul...I love the geese with their songs flying overhead...Beautiful

barone said...

Happy to have stumbled by your blog. Writing and poetry are my passion and nourishment. Lately I have been doing a lot of collage and other art. Thanks for reminding me it is time to go home.
Jodi
wildvines.blogspot.com

Deb G said...

Wonderful... I especially like the last stanza.

kimberley-s@wildmail.com said...

Whenever I find such good poetry, as this is, written in form and rhyme, I am so impressed. It is difficult to do, and my attempts always seem forced and out of meter. Very lovely poem.

It's my first time posting at IMT - and I am having a ball looking at everyone's work.

carla said...

This is truly evocative and so fitting for right now... just this morning I marvelled at the great honking of the geese flying over the trees. I love the form you used; the repetition for me shows the the instinctive cycle of migration. Lovely... thanks for sharing!

Sweet Talking Guy.. said...

You paint a wonderful picture here with well chosen words.

Linda Jacobs said...

I love how each repetition seems fresh and new! Very smooth!