Heralds

High above
the ceaseless hum
of a half sleeping city
squaring away
last gasps of winter
I hear first
springtime honks
and squawks
of squadrons
of Canada geese
in the nearnight hours
just before true dawn
veeing north
turning furrows
of fading clouds
to plow away winter
splitting the wide sky
sounding like so many
vast squabbling flocks
of happy chattering children
on a grade school outing
blasting serendipitous whistles
of split green caragana pods.