Murmuration

On a sullen December afternoon 
I turn a corner into a Hitchcock movie 
Five hundred starlings staring at me

Not a murder of crows 
But—I fear for a moment—a homicide of starlings 
Yet they part before me like I’m Moses

Or at least Charlton Heston

I’ve come in peace 
They let me pass 
I move ahead after a pause

Then look back and see them 
Coalesce again into one black mass 
Pulsing—having the same mind

That unfurls like a flag or 
Waves like a wave 
Whipping and wilting

Skittish skydancers 
Who treat the earth 
Like a trampoline

I’m not sure of the physics 
Or metaphysics 
But in that moment I see clearly

They survive because they have each other.