Poetry in flight At twilight, more night than day, I hear the unmistakable sound of geese toward the west. Darker than the sky, two Canadian geese fly overhead, honking loudly and though others might think them lost, I know before night consumes light, they will swim on Lake Cumberland. After daybreak the next day, thinking about you, I turn around, look up, again toward the west into a blue promise sky, and two geese, the same two, I imagine, fly past. My thoughts go with them; go toward you, away from the east and its red glow, dawning. All that I could ever feel for a woman, I read into the poetry of their flight.