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.
Something told the wild geeseIt was time to go,Though the fields lay goldenSomething whispered “snow.”Leaves were green and stirring,Berries, luster-glossed,But beneath warm feathersSomething cautioned “frost.”All the sagging orchardsSteamed with amber spice,But each wild breast stiffenedAt remembered ice.Something told the wild geeseIt was time to fly,Summer sun was on their wings,Winter in their cry.
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