Birds at Twilight

A black murmuration

of starlings surged like a pepper
storm, shifting shapes
against a pallid blue sky at dusk.

And a slow
procession of flying crows
crossed just above
us, a little crowd of corvids

flapping casually
toward a roost in a fir tree.
We wondered
about the hedge sparrows

hunkering down,
and where do juncos nest?
At twilight, birds
move. They migrate from

light to dark.
We find we're rewarded
when we watch
them as often as we can.

hans ostrom 2024

Birds Today

A fat, orange-bellied robin,

connoisseur of worms, sat

on an old phone line, trilling.

A gray heron, just off a rocky

beach in shallows, staring

down like a chess player

at minnows. Crow, political

birds, gathered and quarreled

like union organizers.

A black-hooded junco

sat on a roof and sternly

clicked at me. And a brown

hedge sparrow ran beside

boxwood, saw me, dove

into the brush. Birds

surveil us, live with us.

They're guardians of a kind.

They have their reasons.

hans ostrom 2024