Something Told the Wild Geese
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 beast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly, -
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
