The Gabble of Geese



Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable…
the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street…
by a gusty wind,
and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.
~Hal Borland



2 thoughts on “The Gabble of Geese

  1. Agree. I have seen (and heard) them, too. as they fly over our house…so majestic and purposeful. I’m wondering if their ‘vee’ formation is what our air force emulates. What is the purpose, do you think? They must choose a leader also. Would be interested to know how that is done, what criteria are used?
    Have to get busy on Google I guess.


  2. A November poem for the city mice, from long ago: A gray-orange cat settling on her favorite chair, Evening curls down around the city muttering/Stray leaves chase through mahogany alleyways, fickle flyers lifted high on thin November wings/Home-bound cars gallop past green-black lampposts/Urged on by dark jockeys before the night chill/ I take my Philadelphia medicine in small sips of sky-scraped indigo and gulps of sienna too/Counting the bricks on shuttered Pine Street as I swallow/Bending toward the sleepy light. “Twilight Pharmacopoeia” (1996)


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