From the melting mist on a distant hill, In a welter of water, there’s overhead whiffling. Then from unknown skies, skeins of geese arrive, twisting and turning, climbing and falling. There’s a green wave of a distant hill, It’s an ocean of grass where the breezes sing, And from unknown skies skeins of geese arrive, Twisting and turning, climbing and falling. They have crossed over flounces of indigo water, An incredible scent of autumn on wings: From unknown skies skeins of geese arrive, twisting and turning, climbing and falling. There’s a whiffle of air on feathers as white As the Arctic snow and the frost they bring, And from unknown skies skeins of geese arrive, Twisting and turning, climbing and falling.
