Blackbirds stream from my right to my left
From northwest to southeast
So quickly their crimson chevrons scarcely visible
So masterfully do they pass through the leafless tree
As if it were a mist or an idea
And yet a few pause to light momentarily
Only to rejoin the surging multitude
Now great now smaller
But uninterrupted and always in one direction

I cannot stay to witness the spectacle
I have my own compulsions to obey