Fay Slimm.

Numberless

 

 

 

Numberless.

 

The day going home dull light
gathered skyways for seeping dusk
to take over night patrol 

and crimson\'s dusty coverlet 
to hide sunset\'s diaphanous muster    

when wonder came into view.

 

A wink of stars mistily shone
as birds approached from southwest,
white drifting specks on

horizon\'s crest murmured hoots         
while wavering indistinct skeins wrung       

countless cries of urge to roost.

 

Each dot became a bundle
of goose, vigour of muscle suddenly   
swooping in riot of noise

feathery myriads of arching
necks steadily beating with instinct\'s

eye to find security.

 

With clamour of playground
at break-time I became dazzled with
glorious din of vast sound

as press of geese-thickness
droned in relentless refusal to stop

before line-dropping in droves.

 

Soon eerie silence as beaks
closed on numberless heads bent
under warm primers after

                 cease of wild chattering                       
   as mystique surrounds avian need 

for crowded sleep composure.