Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, - "snow".
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, lustre-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, - "frost".
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly -
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.

The geese feel an instinctive call that tells them it's time to leave. Though the surroundings are still warm and golden something within them whispers about the coming snow and frost.

The leaves remains green and stirring, and the berries are shiny and lustrous but these signs of abundance are overshadowed by the approaching cold.

The poem mentions sagging orchards steaming with amber spice, the memory of frost and ice and the whisper of snow. These are all subtle signals of the transition from autumn to winter.

The speaker turns away from the streets and crowds to escape the noise, chaos and artificiality of urban life. He seeks a peaceful, natural place filled with wind and clouds, away from skyscrapers and whipping newspapers.

. In the grass, the speaker hears the continuous drone of bees. He sees the bees brushing gold pollen across their legs and hears a bird quietly sitting over her eggs.

The speaker describes the swan's sound as a "crooked clarion" which is a loud, clear and harsh call that echoes across the march.

At the end of the poem, the speaker wants to be found rooted in the deep ground, amidst nature, where the sky tugs at his hair, symbolizing a deep connection with the earth and the open sky.