Poetry: BIRD WARS

The skies
seem placid
But only to
Those held in thrall
by their chosen
Daily grind and commute
As dawn yields
to ever-expanding clouds
Intrepid nightingale
defend inscrutable turf
against enterprising
Sparrowhawk
Over
The water's edge frigate birds
Hold a tight formation
A geometric majesty that
Mocks
the facile tower blocks
Below
Neutral egret
stick their bobbing task
of ridding freshly mowed
idle patches of scampering bugs
Power lines
Tree tops
And cell towers become
Bases and ways stations
And this one
As with all wars
had its intervallic courtships
and copulations
Its cyclical
flights of life
Renewed amid mayhem
The skies
merely
seem
placid


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