The Day Before We Go to War by Christine Hemp I hear the call, familiar and yet not quite: in the distance, a string of sound like the ululating Indian women  at tribal games, or children shrieking  on the playground in spring. It takes a moment  to slide into what I am really  hearing.  First it’s faint but then moves closer, insistent and primal. I step out to the porch, look up. Yes, a necklace of geese returning home.  It’s  March. North in formation, the geese know   without asking or being ordered to go.  They lift toward summer no matter what  madness is being acted out below. The V flies over  televisions ablaze, black subs dropping  into darkness, and the reflection of the moon  we saw last night when we stood  on the pier, remarking how calm the Sound.  Ferry lights like a birthday on the bay. Tomorrow  the geese will be closer to their nests, and we  will tip our ears toward the cries of our own. March 18, 2003   home · resume · recent publications · schedule · technical writing · course offerings list of clients · connecting chord · programs ·  poetry pages · bardic performances · contact Christine Hemp P.O. Box 674 Port Townsend, WA 98368 tel: 360-385-9005