Snow Geese

Snow Geese, Poetry, Bozeman, Montana

Snow Geese

Knight, Phil
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Step outside
It’s still and cold
The mountains shine
Like burnished gold
All around
The silence rings
You feel the power
That wildness brings
This is the world
As it was made
This crystal snow
That virgin glade
High overhead
You hear a sound
It echoes all
The valley round
The cry of snow geese

On the wing
This is the time:
They’re migrating.
A rippling line
Of black and white
Flying deep
Into the night
Soon they’re gone
To land beyond
Passing over
Field and pond
Wood and river
Town and road
Destined for
Winter abode.
You feel the pull
To follow them

To go beyond
The valley’s hem
Southward ho!
Into the sky
With the snow geese
You will fly
In your dreams
You’ve taken wing
You have become
A wild thing... 

Turning their tails
To the north
In search of warmth
They venture forth

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