Starlings in Winter

Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly
they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,
dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,
From Starlings in Winter by Mary Oliver

Working hard on the article on a wet and windy day. Eyes and neck aching, the rain stopped so I nipped out. This gang were perched on the wires - can you believe I stood under them and clapped my hands, camera at the ready. Fraid so.