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Summer’s Gone

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Strung out and “V’d” against the sky,

They honk out a noisy farewell.

Magnificent sight in early morning’s light,

They’ll fly over hill and dale.

 

No clock or calendar tells them —

Their flight plans long-since laid.

Stroking determined wings in flight, day and night,

Until their journey’s made.

 

Winter’s coming. It’s kind of sad

As they wing their way down south.

They’ll return when the weather warms,

And a smile will again adorn my mouth.

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