They are oddities, these honkers
these topographic puzzle solvers.
No seeds left on the path below
no Google Earth, no GPS.
As they knit the threads from skeins
to form a V,
familiar signals fire within goose brains.
I wonder how they choose their course.
Does someone ask,
my place or yours?
Are maps imprinted in their eyes
for this, their annual reprise?
When frost meets feet and food runs short,
are there whispers down the line?
Whose decision will exhort
the others to combine?
Unity is vital.
For weeks they’re ‘on the road’.
Each landmark rings a memory bell
and slipstreams ease the load.
Upon arrival, webby brakes deploy.
And to a one as each arrives,
they give conspicuous voice,
as if to signal sheer relief and joy.
These wonders that will never cease,