ready for November?

Something Told the Wild Geese

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

all photographs via