Do the birds know they are famous?

empty nests with a cushion of hay

I see birds that fly away

on sky ramps – sashay

plan and lay

-claim

 

their place in mysterious dark grey

waiting for the clouds to spray

on earth, go away-

to hide, play

games?

 

murmurations – they all form and splay

finding space somewhere to stay

but never fall prey

-till they slay

Fame

Saturday Mix- Lucky Dip