Starlings Poems - Poems about Starlings

Trees of powder, Delicate and firm. They conceal my feathers of frost. I perch myself by all that glitters All that warms, and all that flickers. I perch myself by candlelight Snug in my nest of yarn. My dearest deer is lost today. The other starlings fly away. Drifting off, a state of slumber Filling me with fear, but wonder. My nest of yarn, it cradles...

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

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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 - with no weight of pollen. Hear those darling starlings -...

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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 to the open grassy plane. ...

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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 melodic buzz, quite affecting. Not of national consequence, abuzz not with politicking...

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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 thousand, any number too fleet to count. They land where they please. See...

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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. Wings 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 want only to feel what those dark foils feel as they carve out...

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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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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 is a starling alone; it is ten thousand starling clones welded into...

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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 on what, To them, comprises meals. A couple flew away, replaced By new...

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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 want only to feel what those dark foils feel as they...

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A chattering of starlings... perform their synchronized... aerial acrobatics... ...

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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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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 one, My life was bleak like the sky until she...

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