Flocks

On the great water the flocks are gathered
white wings, brown wings, black wings mingle
on the ice an on the islands
the flocks sit crying through the night.

Follow each stream-mouth, follow each brooklet
smaller flocks have come to feed
in the meadows, in the thickets
red wings, yellow wings, green wings slide.

Over the fields the dense flocks flutter
shining wings, dull wings, whirring wings bend
trees turn white beneath their weight
the close flocks twitter through the night.

The great river and the smaller streams
ice-blue now and reed-beds golden:
in the shallows, standing, watching
blue wings, grey wings, folded wings wait.

-- ? 1990