The birds are flying
In flocks
Incomprehensible numbers
The trees,
whose leaves
Have
Fallen
Fill up with the birds each eve,
A sea of black
Above
A graveyard
Yelling,
As birds tend
To do.
In college,
I had
Dreams
Of befriending the birds
(You've seen the stories)
With fancy breads,
&
shiny things.
But,
I
N e v e r
Did.
Maybe
I was afraid
They wouldn't like me too.
In high school
I caused
An impromptu field trip
I had seen the birds
And told the class
And my biology teacher
Decided we could
Watch them.
And much like before,
The flock went for miles
Horizon to horizon
In the distance.
In middle school
I saw it the first time.
Soccer practice.
I felt the need to play soccer,
But that's not the point.
I saw it from miles away
Hundreds,
No, thousands,
Perhaps millions
Of birds.
And
I never forgot.