I’ve awoke to a mizzly day of low cloud
The sky is pockled
As the night sky with stars,
So here with Swifts and Swallows
And Martins whirling overhead.
The rain seems to have them out of wack
Hundreds cling
To the plaster of a nearby house,
As others whirl
To and from a large fir.
Then for reasons unknown
All take flight
And that universe breathes in
And I
Gasp.