goose troop

when i was in nine or ten years old, i was assigned poetry to memorize each week and then recite in class every friday. it sounds so old-fashioned and unfun, but i have very dear memories of standing up to recite "saturday" by shel silverstein and "trees" by sara coleridge for my class (i occasionally enjoy being in front of an audience). i still remember some of those poems and i love them dearly. 
one of my favorites was a poem about the migration of wild geese. now: i realize that wild geese are not exotic and are seen by some as a bane... but i still love them. when i see them traveling in Vs, i have to stop and watch them flying, honking encouragement to each other. harbingers of the solstice! so. this is the poem that i love. i think it's one of the first that i ever memorized and recited. i still have the photocopy folded up in my elementary school pencil box at my parents' house.

ganselblumchen (that means goose blossoms!) by g.e. dodge

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.

—rachel field