The Procession of the Geese

Once again I'm at my parents' grave,
    a joyous journey, not too far-
    to bring bright Autumn flowers.
I settle in on my camp chair,
    relishing the quiet,
    that timelessness we receive so hungrily
    when our ancestors are near.
Maple leaves rustle in the wind.
And then-
Gazing across the mowed grass,
    they come into my awareness.
Almost silent,
    all in a row, eyes on the ground,
    pecking here and there for a worm-
The Procession of the Geese!
Oblivious to me, oblivious to the graves,
    uncaring of the names or the dates,
    in a long parade they step,
    with the occasional honk,
    intent on finding food.
"Here is some life for you!" they call,
    webbed feet stepping purposefully
    through the grass.
"Regenerate, and keep going!"
All sixty of them call to me,
    in the voice of Life itself.

Annelinde Metzner

September 28, 2022