At 7: 36 A. M. I heard geese. <br />The unmistakable honk-honk <br />demands, DEMANDS, attention. <br />My shiny new edition of <br />Elizabeth Bishop: The Complete Poems <br />slid to the floor, protestingly. <br /> <br />Mesmerized, as though sleep-walking, <br />I ran to the glass door <br />and there they were: <br />changing from perfect <br />V’s into perfect checkmarks <br />back into chaos <br />and then back into perfection <br />and yet back again <br />in the matter of seconds. <br />No airforce precision drill <br />exercise could compete. <br /> <br />Unusual to see <br />them this close to the city. <br />Why this place? <br />Why this moment? <br /> <br />Overcome with emotion <br />and not really understanding why, <br />I watched as the last ones <br />moved out of vision. <br />I could not express my wonder <br />until now. <br /> <br />The quietitude they left behind, <br />the stillness in the atmosphere, <br />seemed resonant, <br />vibrated freneticly, <br />until once again <br />the birds resumed their caroling, <br />the clouds carried on their voyage <br />across the sky <br />to India, to China, somewhere exotic, <br />I'm sure, <br />and Elizabeth Bishop’s exquisite <br />voice summoned me back <br />to my reading chair.<br /><br />Sonny Rainshine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/morning-geese/
