The Midnight Squadron!

Sitting back in my moonlit yard
My consciousness lay close to zonking
But the placid air soon was marred
By some tropospheric honking!
It was some wing of geese in flight,
Most definitely heading south,
And the sound I heard pierce the night
Was from an airborne spoon shaped mouth!
 
Twas then I realized their bill
Provided them some extra lift
And a fleshless nose probes the chill
Without freezing as it sniffed.  
 
How clever are these geese, I thought,
With their sleek, shovel shaped faces,
So splendid for a marshy spot
Or hurtling through some outer spaces!
 
So fly...you magnificent birds!
And anoint the tropics with fresh turds!