Have you ever watched black birds in November?
If only my thoughts were as orderly as seventy-eight black birds on a telephone wire in November. As if traffic were incidental and wind a given, they twitter and preen and flock from this wire to that with effortless intention. Like charred popcorn, they flutter up, bump, pop, and settle right back down onto a simple line, firm and flexible.
© Amy Persons Parkes 2012