Best Starlings Poems

Murmuration of starlings high. I’m high!
Low stars twinkling with wings. The trumpet’s call!
As winds of war, incline, in warm wind sigh,
the flock, a shock, sans enemies appall.

These friends do fascinate, heard like bombers,
like Japanese over unsuspecting 
Pearl Harbor fight ~ these darling bird-balmers.
The nudge of...

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They flow out of a pocket of sky,
a door in the air no one saw
until dark wings shower
over our heads.

Their plumage has a metallic sheen,
as if they were made in parts,
in some elvish workshop, their wings
hammered on last.
Wings that talk to other wings,

for no starling...

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Starlings wait outside
for the blackbirds to come 'round
so they can kick butt.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
May.27/2012...

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dusk, and starlings flock;
  murmuring shapes across sky
  then downwards  to roost....

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Murmuration of Starlings

     On a sudden moment in the evening sky
     A cloud that rises, swirls and swirls again
     A murmeration of Starlings rise and fly,

     Lift and fall...

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Hear those darling starlings - a noisy bunch!
They’re singing their hearts out, Sweetheart.

They’ve taken over the storm-ridden tree.
So brilliantly clean, from beak to wings.

They chatter about the suspended weather.
Only the early morning riser hears their bobbery.

Oaks dripping, white sky, delightful tweets.
I could fly…I could fly...

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Me and she watch the starlings fly high in the sky, 
So together unlike the people we see rush below.
They swirl into patterns adding color on grey, 
As they dance around clouds that may get in the way.
Me and she are like starlings together as...

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Waiting for the light to change
(A busy urban street),
I noticed quite a gathering
Not far from my two feet.

Upon a sewer grate I saw
Some starlings pecking ‘round
Although I didn’t even 
See a crumb upon the ground.

Their beaks dipped down, oblivious
To passersby or wheels,
Intent on filling up...

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A chattering of starlings...

          perform their synchronized...

                             ...

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Tuxedoed and sequinned 
Sixty starlings sing in the driving rain 
Facing where the sun should be 
Each pinnacles atop a leaf-bare branch
Black popsicles upon October's tree 
Leaf confetti blowing to the ground
As they loudly choir their symphony...

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a chameleon bird
their colors change with seasons
pointed beak starlings...

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A flock of starlings flying, swirling around for the longest time, land in a cherry tree. Off they go again into the distance, out of sight. While snow is falling gently as they vanish into the distance....

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They flow out of a pocket of sky,
a door in the air no one saw
until dark wings shower
our heads.

Their plumage a metallic sheen,
as if they were made in parts,
in some elvish workshop, their wings
hammered on an iron last.

No starling is a starling alone;
it is a...

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Starlings fly in flocks
Anticipating others direction changes
Twisting and turning in precision
A dance where they are ultra-aware of their companions
Scientists say each is cognizant of seven neighbors at a time...

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After peppering a tower of light
the flight froths over.

A bloom of wings falling,
then,
the dark shower
turning as one.

Puddles of sky splash open
speckled by black flint heads.
Wing flecks spume.

Better I don't know
if this dance is choreographed
or a grace
thrown from the very thing
that is flung.
Better a dazzled surmise.

I...

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