alex behar
Murmurations
Above the pale sunset fly the starlings high
Gliding on the waning light of dusk,
Shifting shapes in liquid articulation,
Like a fluid mass,
Billowing silken,
In a swirling dance
Above the fading roofs,
There is something unspoken
In the unearthly ballet,
Like the motion itself
Is alive,
I watch in amazement,
As a body of a thousand black birds
Steers its aqueous limbs through empty space,
Speaking telepathically
To a phantom brain
In a dialogue of beating wings,
And somehow
A voicemail will live in a phone,
Unheard,
For a lifetime.