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HIGH FLYERS
The vee of birds, high in the sky,
Are honking loud and long.
We linger there, as they fly by,
About a hundred strong.
They journey swiftly, far and near,
To fairer nesting ground.
Embarking on the trip each year,
They fill the air with sound.
The leader tires and falls behind;
Another takes his place.
He travels on their borrowed wind
Upon their wild goose chase.
Although they're not the brightest flock
Of creatures God has made,
They fill the heavens, as they squawk,
Their airborne promenade.
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Poetry: Bird humor
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