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The sunlight's slanting through the trees.
A very gentle eastern breeze
Is blowing out across the lake.
The shadows stretching 'til they break.
The flowers gently nod and bend.
The birds their softest twitters lend.
The day is drawing to a close
And we're in quiet, mute repose.

The geese arrive a thousand strong!
And each complaining loud and long
About how long and hard the way
While working northward all the day.
They dip and dive - turn upside down,
Then flair and glide. No splashing sound.
They settle down to spend the night.
They feed, they rest and what a sight!

They preen and stretch, then tuck their heads.
And for a while, go to their beds.
The geese were settled on the lake
Until their nature made them take
Their Northern Journey just a dawn.
And we'll stand watching 'til they're gone.
The daylight stealing through the trees
And - just for them - a southern breeze.






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The following comments are for "Along the Flyway"
by Gramma





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