Flight of Starlings

Sunlight casts
veins of shadow low
upon the February snow.

A screech of starlings colonises
the tree tops
leaves
in mourning
for lost cousins.

A few strays join the colony.

The cry
stops.

Sudden silence
followed by flap and rise
all as one into magnetic skies

drawn across like filings. Metalled birds
swarm and swoop and swell
in patterns known only to themselves.

Two separate clouds mingle and separate
to silent command;
slick back down onto another tree.

Who chooses? Who knows?

The screech goes up again.

Cloud covers the sun.

Earthbound,
I trudge
home.