The starlings have gathered The starlings have gathered In their brownie black Flying in triumph There and back They screen the sun Like grains of sand Thrown into the air from an open hand And maybe Or maybe not This is my lot To sit and dream upon my back Watching the starlings in brownie black Share this: poemPrintMoreTwitterFacebookLinkedInRedditTumblrPinterestPocketTelegramWhatsAppSkypeEmailLike this:Like Loading... By timmyconway poet View all of timmyconway's posts.
