Most of winter was stripped of life <br />but in thousands they do suddenly appear <br />when all of the blue sky is full of fluttering <br />with migrating birds gliding everywhere <br />as they come to rest on roofs and telephone lines <br />and you are surrounded by singing, twittering birds <br />pertly flapping down on porches <br />and from daybreak you can hear their calls <br />when in hordes in the garden skilfully they do peck at insects, <br />are peering from branches <br />while you still are shivering from the morning's chill <br />and in the early twilight their chattering awakes you <br />as some peck on crumbs <br />and try to exist in a town or city.<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/migrating-birds-2-2/
