I hadn’t noticed the starlings until the moment
they suddenly fall silent
like an orchestra held by conductor’s arms aloft
not one bird falters
eery quiet
then, at once, as though directed
they resume their chatter, all whistles and whirrs
each bird busy with her own noise
enjoying how their voices
electrify the grey November skies.
Photo by Anton Ivanov from Pexels
Following the Heron 