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.



This is a poem by Rachel Field, and I had to learn it in sixth grade, which was about 47 years ago...I had a most wonderful teacher named Mrs. Smith who instilled her love of poetry in her students...especially me. I can still remember nearly every poem I had to recite for her...what a wonderful legacy, Mrs. Smith!!!