Masters of the Air

Wind-borne birds smoke the skies,
Shimmering shoals of starlings wheel and whirl,
Paint-strokes of dark on light,
Inky signatures of avian exuberance.

Many heartbeats with one mind
Twist into strings of life,
Settle into silence or clatter skywards,
As if the wings' applause would scare
The plunging peregrine from its dive,
Talons clutching at empty air,
Tumbling aerobatics promise the grip of death–
Next time.

Swirling thunderclouds at sunset
Descend on roofs and aerials–urban trees–
Their chatter in dots and dashes
Sounds the joy of another free day's flying.