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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BOATMEN OF THE SKY, by GRACE BROWN PUTNAM Poet's Biography
First Line: The south-bound geese sail honking past
Last Line: Grim boatmen of the sky.
Subject(s): Boats; Sailing & Sailors; Seashore; Beach; Coast; Shore
First Line: The south-bound geese sail honking past
Last Line: Grim boatmen of the sky.
Subject(s): Boats; Sailing & Sailors; Seashore; Beach; Coast; Shore
The south-bound geese sail honking past,
Dark-patterned on the gray,
While willows lift their torches up
To guide them on their way.
Beneath them lie the sallow sloughs;
They neither see nor care
That once their nestlings there were fed,
Young galleons of the air.
Far in the jagged teeth of hills
That cut the sky at last
A fragile wreath of purple smoke
Goes drifting slowly past.
Across the primrose of the west
A smouldering sunset burns
Where daylight's pallid ashes lie
Enshrined in golden urns.
The geese stream on, in prow-shaped flight
And honk a hoarse, "Goodbye!"
While darkness falls, they still sail on,
Grim boatmen of the sky.
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