a spontaneous

generation

 

countless starlings

in kaleidoscopic

flourish

 

black handful

of confetti

flung

 

into the bleak sky

of winter’s prelude

 

a celebration 

of nothing

 

and therefore

everything

 

i praise you

sweet suffering

beauty

 

waxing and waning

without warning 

an unsure moon 

 

i fill my insatiable eyes

with your face

 

i hold your feathers

against my breast

 

i track the days cast 

in their murmuration

 

not knowing

how many will fly

or fall