S. R. Lavin

Rookie (4/2/45 / Springfield, Massachusetts)

The Geese Don'T Know What Day It Is - Poem by S. R. Lavin

In Second Milo (New York) I remember
in complete detail my grandfather driving
the back roads of rural Massachusetts,
how we would stop in a glen and eat cherries
which he kept in a giant paper sack.

He always knew the shady place along the way
where we should stop and recollect ourselves.

A swallow darts past me, reviving me,
as I speed over the landscape
and in my reverie I think “this is heaven.”

Or, what heaven could be….

such as I was, one of these, fully human
in all my weaknesses and all that was beautiful.

The geese soar overhead, squawking
on their way to better feeding grounds.

Comments about The Geese Don'T Know What Day It Is by S. R. Lavin

  • (12/16/2005 9:24:00 PM)

    I love this S.R.! Such beautiful reminiscence of your childhood..............although I've written a 'hate' poem about cherries, this one I like very much! Sincerely, Mary (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 16, 2005

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