Squadrons of geese fall-fly south, moving in

and out of rank,

honking simply to stay together and to swap

leader.

The teachers urge the children to look at fighter

jets, the Thunderbirds,

a name taken from the great Indian bird, but

nothing is said of that provenance.

The new god rips open the tepee vault of the sky

above our schools and homes.

No one points out the caret of geese inserting

themselves peacefully on the day,

or mentions what exactly the Thunderbirds

mean to insert.

The geese unravel their chevron ranks, their echelon

formation and, as if in civil disobedience,

reform again, but this time into a child's copybook

correct sign