A poem by Michael Edwards,
and a photo by E.S. of their blazing feathers, from our garden this friday afternoon ;
a she-starling so they say.

...
together
but for
seconds only as
each
makes for a
spot to
comfortably
hook each
toe
to a twig.

...
Above our talk
in the high cold
miracle
brilliants
the blazing stars
the night makes
visible.

A Noël,
tels un vol d’étourneaux,
On se retrouve
pour festoyer ;

Puis chacun retourne bien vite
s’agripper à sa branche,
On sait jamais,
des fois qu’elle s’échapperait
en notre absence.