The Murmuration

Shifting as a shadow, now they turn,
And somehow twist as one,
Countless tiny speckles,
Drifting as a smudge of smoke,
Out from the city into the country,
Oracular they rise, unfolding,
And assume a myriad forms,
Upon a blazing scarlet sky,
A cacophony of starlings,
Awing in their murmuration,
Settling as starlight glitters,
Into a sighing copse of wilting alder,
To roost upon wet, black boughs,
Until the first ray of dawn arises.