Autumn Birds

AUTUMN BIRDS Heading home, toward the sun; its long drawn-in breath of twilight, sucking the last gasps of birds toward its mouth, I glimpse a flock of sparrows, gathered up in squalls to forage the last bruised fruits of summer, and know winter is approaching. Waves of starlings and ocean spray sparrows, splashing across the sky, gust like the rib of a wind sock, a white sheet falling upon winged chairs, saying time has come to head South. Seeking comfort among circles, when the weather turns and daylight dwindles, they gather at dusk, With cropped wings, bank the air then swoop down to roost like the evening’s frost condensing on the trees. It is the ebb of Summer, its last glimmer; The sweeping undertow of geese carrying shells disappear in the dusk and are swallowed by the sun, like a river, drowning every echo from our mouths. John Tansey