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a million birds MAG
there are too many birds
the gnarled and twisted branches of the old oak are fully clothed
not a shred of bark can be seen
in the flurry of tails and wings and feathers
a million birds all on one tree
the others all bare for some reason
a million birds too many
unable to join in harmony
their songs diluted, dull
dropping from the clustered beaks like lead
onto the ground
a million birds but it only took one rock
one rock thrown at the base of the tree
to send up the signal
danger danger
i watch from my distant perch
as a million birds try to take flight
but it seems that flying through flesh is more
difficult than flying through the sky
wings upon wings
claws upon claws
reminding me of a start of an open water
swim race
a frenzied flapping squawking mess
a million birds in the sky
but something scares them more than my rock
the sound of a gunshot is one innately feared
by all species
but the swarm can do nothing as it is thinned indefinitely
indeed i can do nothing but watch
can’t look away from the trainwreck
of a million birds
a million birds hitting the ground
a broken dream of flight in their slowly
fading eyes
that’s better
a million birds is too many
now there are not too many birds
but the one lone song
seems empty somehow
and he quickly takes flight once again
heading for the sun
and leaving his fallen brothers behind
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