Overwinter

by Kathryn Ganfield

Canada geese break their vee
into a sine curve.
Four lag behind, beating hard to regain the flock
that wends northeast on a winter afternoon.

Geese or ganders, identical,
whether near or far.
Wings a gauntlet gray,
heads stretched and black like asps.

In the air,
bright and ceaseless honks,
capped only by a downy woodpecker,
its head a slice of Red Delicious.
Knocking, knocking,
rapping, bashing.
Not too loosen insects, but because
this is the only song they sing.