Birdwatching, Easter 2017
Starlings have hung up on the telephone lines,Their high-wire act is now a murmuration,
When cummingsesque, the world will be
Puddle-wonderful, if there is a world at all.
Above me is a circus of circling crows,
Cocky ringmasters whipping the still air;
No murmuration for them, no mass flypast,
Rather a cackling big top in a babel tree.
All the telephone lines are silent, silent
As a mute mocking bird miming a plea,
A plea in cohenesque truth and beauty:
'I have tried in my way to be free'.
Poetry by Christopher Fernie
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Written on 2017-09-12 at 12:38
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