200 Starlings

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200 starlings drop by
in a cloud
that swoops and dives
An aerial ballet
takes over every inch
of the front yard
It’s a convention and
they’re dining on
dried chicory husks
with other delicacies
hidden in the snow
They huddle on the roof,
congregate the road,
then disappear on mass
reappearing seconds later
behind the house
And I, featherless, chatter
exhilarated
by this encounter,
their parallel universe.

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©2017 Ontheland

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