Like falling leaves from a wind blown tree,
then tumble free.
Screeching through a sky -
like scythes in flight
or jets that soar in an aerial fight.
All meet up, then
like ribbons that
from a maypole crown.
Tornadoes of feathers,
making fantasy shapes as they all unfurl.
A whisp of smoke
a rush of noise,
turning as one with grace and poise.
The rustling of a million wings
Nature’s ballet - an awesome thing.
and silence reigns
starlings roost in the reed beds again.
Diana Leighton May 2011