Wildness

Nothing needs to be said when geese fly over,
noising their way through the sky.
They may be wild, 
nonetheless, depend on our corn.

 We wish for wildness,
would willing join the persistence 
of these hungry feathered hordes 
and so discard the blandishments of the greedy 
who are simply bored.

We keep thinking of that distant shore
to which mentally we are fleeing,
as to a door 
we may enter and exit at will, 
fly shore to shore,
and so exercise bold freedom;

 but live according to reason,
thus repeat and store
our annually repeated decision 
as to whether we’re “not” or “for.”
Thus, rejoicing in an exercise 
of freedom,
stay where we are.