Poetry by Peter A. Witt
Wild geese announce their arrival with gusto
as the air feels chilled and the winter sky
fills with pumpkin and apple spice hues.
I wait each year for their arrival, honking
like grandpa used to do when he and grandma
pulled up at the house in their overstayed
Ford, with its slight wisp of tailpipe smoke
and a finish in bad need of polishing.
There was something dependable about
the grain eating geese and my grandparents,
both on a well-worn schedule, both happy to be with us,
but knowing when it was time to take their leave.
Peter A. Witt is a poet, family history writer, active birder and photographer. He took up writing poetry in 2015 from a 43 year university teaching and research career. He lives in Texas. His work has been published in several online and print publications.
