The Sound the Sight the Dark Speckled White
In uniform vision flight of angled
depth and precision.
The breakfast being cooked outside
on the roof, in a tree, on a bush with
no emissions!
The squeaks and bubbles and hisses -
these sounds you may well miss.
In the blink of an eye they dismiss us,
disappear away in the distant bliss.
The complex array of tune notes blend
into the beauty of song. A day has
begun anew and winter’s marching on.
The cold crisp air and freezing fog blur
the weary sight. A glance into the air
and a fly past will focus your eyes alright!
The bird feeder quiet and alone all night
now attacked by a flock of darts. In focus
you can hear them talk and see their
speckled white on their dark.
The evening falls when darkness calls later
in the day. The roost site sees a cloud is
born that moves in a different way.
Ten thousand or maybe more now perform
a magical dance. The sky is a their stage
and the sun set their light as you see this
movie - you’ll watch it in a trance!
They pass over your head so huge the
murmuration the sound takes your breath
away.
That little starling that you saw maybe in
that crowd, maybe up there today?
The anticipation of the funnel dive and
then the magic settles for the night.
You’ll remember this for years to come
and you’ll try to get another sight.
Nature’s beauty shows up in different
ways in the dark and in the light.
But there is a beauty and wonder of
aerobatic majesty performed most every
winters night. By birds that produce
more than a beautiful song - by those
little starling birds and their plumage of
dark speckled white.
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2020
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