There have been quite a few geese flying in lately, in small groups & in two's. There is something about their cry as they pass... I find it quite haunting. This was inspired by them leaving in the autumn...
Out of the dawn they came flying,
Where from? Nobody knew.
On the air you could hear their crying
And the beat of their wings as they flew.
Too soon their rhythm was dying,
They'd passed together as one.
To follow? There's no point in trying
The last ones have already gone.