I watch starlings as my breath drifts
into the vast, indifferent ether.
The scenery is transformed
by their magical presence,
just like a dark fisherman's net they sway,
strength in numbers and now not east prey.
It's a sight which makes me gasp
for this is nature at its best
a reminder this can still
be a most wondrous world.
But then the scarlet clouds turn grey,
the show is over, starlings disappear
into the chilly autumn atmosphere.