Poetry Sunday: Something Told the Wild Geese by Rachel Field

The migration of birds has always been a mysterious thing. Although much more is understood of it today than was in the past, we still wonder, how exactly do they know when it is time to go? 

There are a lot of wintering geese here in January but soon enough, in a few weeks, something will tell them to head north again. And just like that, they will be off.

Something Told the Wild Geese

by Rachel Field 

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.


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