Swirls of starlings
abseil between sun and moon
hurl themselves into a dance
through ghosts of trees
they go where they need to go.
Long nights slide in
embers empty the land
dying woods wait for the earth to turn
In the betwixt and between
I am a still frame in the granite glow
and leaves are twisted silver songs
Stars gasp, turf smoke curls
Crisscrossing the place where love was exhausted
and blankets way down in the moment before light
Ready now, I follow the starlings and birth another year.