A chill settles in the northern rivers,

A ripple of frost tints the grass,

And the feathers of the cozy creatures,

Ruffle to warm them fast.

Their chattering and honks don’t ever cease,

But grow into consensus of unrest,

When it comes time for the beady eyed geese,

To choose to leave their nest.

Soaring across the weightless skies,

A snowflake fluttering in the wind,

Geese dance and sing like flying kites,

Until the south they settle in.

At night they rest their sleepy heads,

Now warm again in mass,

Pleased and happy where they tread,

They wait for winter to pass.