Blackbirds

(painting by Dalya Burton, nearly 3)

Blackbirds have gathered to feast in the fields.

Rising in a wave from the concealing grain

the great flock twists and wheels

as if with one mind

before settling to perfectly-spaced perches

on power lines above.

What secret signal, what inner trumpet

calls them from their business to their rest,

bids them rise

as we will one day rise,

on a thousand little wings?