Squadrons of geese fall-fly south, moving in
and out of rank,
honking simply to stay together and to swap
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