Saturday, January 15, 2011


Among a flock of geese (we call a gaggle),
A few strut out ahead while others straggle.

They’re nowhere near so regal as the eagle
Nor fly so blithely as a soaring sea gull.

To spy them in the sky will make you giggle
Until they shrink into a distant squiggle,

Which you may see while skiing to a mogul
On top of which you perch and lurch and ogle.

They won’t return, not though you blow your bugle,
Unless you’re on the Net and search with Google.