Mama used to always point out the geese laying down on the grass behind our house

She would tell me that they flew down for winter because they were Canadas geese

I would always end up so confused on why, because it was cold down here too

I wondered if that's where we got the phrase "silly goose"

because isn't it silly to avoid the cold by flying somewhere cold?

She would tell me that summer is always warmer on the east side

until I felt the sun on California beaches

How it made my skin tingle like never before

and I remembered the geese from Canada and wondered

why they never took vacation on California beaches

The birds down there and their big flipper feet and long black beaks

The geese in Virginia are never friendly

I always wanted to have one in my home

I thought they could be nice if they had a companion like me

but Mama told me that they liked to bite so I made sure that

I never called them "Silly goose" to their faces

And I remember going on walks by the creeks in the summertime

watching out for the green feces so it didn't get on my shoes

Flattened by the things that walked before me

I wondered if they had mamas with strong hands, or wings i guess

And every time the geese would fly away again

I looked up and wished I had thick flying feathers

and soft down that kept me warm underneath my arms

I kind of wished I could fly up to Canada too

and every year I let the thought lift me off of the ground

Away from families with flat faces and bland colors

Away from the ground that honks in your face

Away from the grassy marsh of a landing ground

Silly goose for thinking I could fly