Gaggle

Their etchings across my sky are too graceful
For this name
This gaggle of geese
Veering in close formation
As if choreographed
And well rehearsed

It must be their honking
Incessant midnight honking
Which calls me from my bed
To witness their passing
Above the lake there

It is too much like the sound
Of Manhattan mid day traffic
This goose noise
Like moving trucks
Sanitation trucks
Wild cabbies and impatient bus drivers
All sounding the alarm
Leaning on their horns
Startling anyone
Still sleeping
Or just pausing
At some light

If they would just speak softly
And call out more like doves
I would rename them
A company of dancers
By Degas
Gliding across the blackened stage
A ballet
In truth
Not
A gaggle
After all