The Starlings' Waiting Room

These wires that trail the sky
are the starlings' waiting room.
As soon as new seed is scattered,
in they zoom.

The bird-table, that is their first stop,
then down to the ground,
where more seeds fill their eager beaks,
till in the pool they paddle
and bathe and drink and spill.

True, there are blackbirds, finches, a thrush,
sparrows and dunnocks, but still
it's the starlings that steal the scene,
with exuberant dancing,
their liberal push and shove,
that leaves me laughing.

poem © Celia Warren 2011