When Annie got an ache in her bones,
it meant winter was coming.
Maybe the geese got an ache in their wings
for far away places.
I wondered
when I was young
why they went
and where.
I couldn't imagine their flying
all the way to Florida
when I got lost
crossing over our mountain.
Annie would wake me,
"The geese are flying!"
I'd pretend to fly
as I ran down to the lake.
Barefoot, in a flannel nightgown,
I'd wave farewell.
Overhead
the Canada geese were shaftless arrows
shot from some instinctual bow
piercing the morning sky
with their raucous goodbyes.
Seven years old seems forever ago.
I've been beyond Florida without getting lost,
and Annie's joined the geese
beyond the horizon.
Yet just about this time of year,
when I hear the geese flying high,
I still run outside in my flannel nightgown
and wave goodbye.
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