Messengers from the hyperborean regions bearing winter on their backs they seek the South now bright beacons of beak pulse in whitewash formations carved from Icelandic births, theirs an arrow-headed arrival falling through clouds and dusting the landscape like snow wing beats and wild whoops announce their coming we hail our visitors as heroes of the thousand frozen miles they have kept faith with the cycle like these migrants we too have harnessed the winds farmed out land to armies of white, shimmering sentinels electrifying air by the mere miracle of revolution all along the flight paths, the feeding grounds, columnar collisions, ever-ready blades for the execution
Lilian asks us to include ‘visit’ or its derivation in our poetics poem: “Leave the Porch Light On“
PoetryPix 
There is such a risk with those blades… everything we do can cause harm… but I do love that someone find our winters mild enough to stay… but I realize that whooper swans have passed already heading south,
Yes we do harm even in our greenest schemes. Our Whoopers migrate from Iceland – even your land is too cold for them!
Falling through the clouds – that is a unique image and so filled with truth and symbolism. This poem is pumped up with pictures. Great!
Am pumped a little with pride after your appreciative comment -many thanks – belated somewhat as did not check pending comments
I’m behind, too, Laura. No worries. Your writing is excellent!
what an awesome sight to behold, and what a way to announce winter’s coming, I have such admiration for these tenacious creatures. beautiful poem
Thank you – their beauty is hard to capture in words
At night in Indiana the wind turbines have red lights going on and off. I wonder if these birds can use that to avoid them. Nice video of them skidding to a landing.
Not just collisions but also avoidance of areas they are used to feeding on
Images flying in my mind…so graceful and yet so vulnerable. It’s sad to think of the deaths and injuries. 😦
ignominious endings sometimes for these visitors but many return year after year to the same areas with the same mate and their wild beauty persists
This is an amazing post, Laura. Thanks so much for posting to the prompt.
I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a whooping swan but your words allow me some insights here and an understanding of their fragile yet at the same time strong beauty. I especially love these lines:
“wing beats and wild whoops announce their coming
we hail our visitors as heroes of the thousand frozen miles
they have kept faith with the cycle”
…and how frightening that our attempts to harness the winds can be their demise.
This is just an excellent write!
PS: Forgot to mention….the title is an apt one that portends the sadness that can befall these beautiful creatures. Or….it can also be a foretelling of their return in migration, following their incredible cycle of behaviors….their whoops and flying into our lives once again.
a little like your Trumpeter swans I think Lilian- thank you for such appreciative words and a prompt that inspired this poem
oh yes indeed! you have perceived all the connotations of the title.