The flock slides, amoeba-like across 
the steel sky, almost like the way a new 
father holds his swaddled first daughter, 
equal parts wonder, and fear. Limbs like 

protoplasm, the flock probes, first left 
then right, now doubling back, like a snake 
lunging for the hand that grasps. Wings feather 
downwards, landing every shade of hard black: 
each hue a recovered language. Cowbird, 

grackle, red-winged and rusty blackbirds, even 
starlings spice this avian gumbo. Each month 
of snow sends a new wave southward to our 
Georgia yards—the rooms in Hotel North now 
laden with icy pearls and No Vacancies. In this 

congregation, all are equal, plumage solid, 
spotted, or speckled, wings with or without 
red and yellow epaulets, body unmarked 
or evenly decked with cream-colored 
fairy lights that outshine the twinkling 

night. Frost’s silence is carelessly discarded—
voices bouncing off both house and fence. Sound 
carries in frozen air: rasps, clicks, bent tin squawks, 
trills, and cheek cheeks, power a tone-deaf 
calliope. Calls sharp 

enough to slice ear lobe or finger. 
A sudden elongated whoosh as my wife 
opens the back door and the flock lifts off 
like a fleeing UFO. The chatter is deafening, 
but only a few white blotches dot 
our tawny lawn. 

Gary Grossman,

Professor Emeritus of Animal Ecology, University of Georgia, enjoys running, music, fishing, and gardening. He has poems, short fiction, and essays published in more than 65 literary reviews. His poetry and short fiction have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best Small Fictions. His poetry books Lyrical Years (Kelsay Books, 2023) and What I Meant to Say Was... (Impspired Press, 2023), and his graphic memoir My Life in Fish: One Scientist’s Journey (Impspired Press, 2023) all may be purchased from Amazon or from the author.

Author’s website: https://www.garygrossman.net/