Poetry Jam can be found here
Screaming in on scimitar wings,
They settled and squabbled and fed,
Then fled as one noisy squadron,
But one of their number lay dead.
A young inexperienced starling
Found that glass was harder than head,
His short earthly life was completed,
For Morpheus beckoned instead.
Yikes! I'm a little bit scared now...
ReplyDeletePowerful words and photos.
This was brief and sad, but beautiful... like the poor starling's life. I was moved to go to YouTube and find the clip of Bill Oddie watching the starlings forming dancing clouds in the sky, so thanks for reminding me, and for the poem!
ReplyDeleteJane Gray
Greetings from the Amish community of Lebanon,Pa. Richard from Amish Stories.
ReplyDeletePoor starling-a lovely tribute to him though, beautiful bird that he is.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the same philosophy as me.
ReplyDeleteThe rain forests are destroyed and the river floods.
You dead bird reminds me of when I was at the Uni of Windsor in Canada, on their glass hgh buildings, they have cut our black curdboards of eagles. They say it deters the birds from flying straight into the glass.
Very sad but brilliantly written.
ReplyDeleteIf I say I like the poem, I hope you will know what I mean. This is something that happens to us occasionally. There is a narrow gap between the kitchen and a Weglia tree which birds in flight sometimes steer for miss. The conservatory window used to be another death trap, but they seem to have grown wise to that.
ReplyDeletePoor thing - it did look a bit stiff!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your visit!
Excellent poem! Poor bird.
ReplyDelete