Fay Slimm.

Glorious Din.

 

 

Glorious Din.

 

The day going home, dull light
had gathered in greying rolls for dusk
to take over coming of night

as scarlet\'s striated coverlet
hid the best of sunset but then began
a time to remember.

 

A pair of stars liquidly shone
as birds approached from southwest,
dark drifting specks on

   horizon\'s mist, quiet hoots         
from wavering indistinct skeins wrung        
music of air-flight to roost.

 

Each dot became a bundle
of goose, vigour of muscles suddenly   
swooped noisy and hungry,

feathery myriads of arching
white beating steadily with instinct\'s
gift to food-blessed marshes.

 

Like clamour of playground
at break-time commotion became a
glorious din of active sound

as press of geese-thickness
droned in with relentless clicking for
space to safely settle in.

 

Soon eerie silence as beaks
closed on drooping heads reliably set
to continue goose-mystique.