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Malcolm Ross

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The Starling Tree

For my students at Filia


I looked up to see
The starling tree
And there it stood
Ablaze with leaves for me
A hand span spread
Against the darkening sky
Branches no longer bare
As once they were
But laden with seed clusters now
And in full summer sail.
Gone the great flock
Of wayward birds
That held my stare
On winter afternoons
Ranged in rows there
Like notes upon a stave
the melody transposed
by the wind, at the whim
of the flock to alight
or take off again, an impulse
of the collective will
a single bird-thought
to articulate the firmament,
tune in to the music
of the spheres, define
the matrix of the infinite.
There they held converse
With the unkind elements,
Rain that would freeze them
where they perched
did they not instantly,
instinctively lift off,
and leaving none behind,
swing skywards, vanish
with the wisdom of their kind.

Page(s) 51

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