I watch them
lined up on the fence
twitching nervously
looking from side to side
for hawks
and our neighbour’s cat
their black pebble eyes
trying hard
not to blink.
It looks exhausting
all that fear
living inside the drumbeat of panic
the proximity of death.
One flies up into the big tree
and they all go
their black wings revealing
streaks of red
unexpected
immodest
like lipstick
like underwear.
Suddenly they don’t seem so meek
and I wonder if I misjudged them
perhaps they are breathless
with delight
ravenous for the way the sunlight
makes mazes
with shadows.
They fly again
over to the lake
a swarm of red streamers
and I am reminded
that we are more beautiful
when we soar.
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