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09/10/2023
o, geese! you clever tricksters!
you certainly know how to leave your mark
I can trace your path through
bloody welts stinging skin
grass-stained lumps on concrete
feathers drifting through the air
nests with egg-shaped dents
all the way to where
your wings had last taken you,
or where your feet had last rested
o, geese! you enigmatic creatures!
it is a tragedy that
many cannot fathom your nature
believing their few volatile encounter
to be the sum of your story,
that every volition of yours includes violence,
reducing your image down to
barbed beaks and necks to be noosed
silencing your tale simply
because we don’t share a language
o, geese! you woeful singers!
what sorrows are carried
by the fanfare of your cries
echoed by the wailing wind?
do you mourn the elders
who passed into the arms of death,
coaxed by the passage of time?
do you mourn the dewey grass
of the fields you left behind?
do you mourn for the sake of mourning -
because you spend your life
in flight, for the sake of life itself?
o, geese! you loyal friends!
we have been so blind to
what we have in common -
the love we share for our kin
is a mirror of each other’s,
though your family is feathered
and ours are not
and the journeys we embark on
are one and the same -
though we take flight
at different times and places,
you as instinct and us as innovation,
we both seek a resting place
that graces us with life
o, geese!
every fall without fail,
and every spring without surprise
i see the dark specks of your wings
punctuate the sky
like the commas in a story
telling the timeless tale of
a fight for, and a flight towards,
a constant yet ever-changing
home
By Grace Liang
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