Navarre Scott Momaday

(February 27, 1934 / Lawton, Oklahoma)

Angle Of Geese - Poem by Navarre Scott Momaday

How shall we adorn
Recognition with our speech?—
Now the dead firstborn
Will lag in the wake of words.

Custom intervenes;
We are civil, something more:
More than language means,
The mute presence mulls and marks.

Almost of a mind,
We take measure of the loss;
I am slow to find
The mere margin of repose.

And one November
It was longer in the watch,
As if forever,
Of the huge ancestral goose.

So much symmetry!—
Like the pale angle of time
And eternity.
The great shape labored and fell.

Quit of hope and hurt,
It held a motionless gaze
Wide of time, alert,
On the dark distant flurry.

Comments about Angle Of Geese by Navarre Scott Momaday

  • (4/2/2018 10:19:00 AM)

    Momaday writes not only from the heart, but also so movingly with the soul. BEAUTY of life put perfectly into word. My spirit applauds. (Report) Reply

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  • (5/6/2014 8:31:00 PM)

    Cute poem. I like the way you write. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: loss, hope, dark, time

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

Poem Edited: Monday, September 19, 2011

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