Starlings Murmurating Over Leamington Spa

Published in the Stratford Literary Festival's Young Poet's Anthology 2023 - to see my footage of the Leamington murmuration click here.

See the starlings gather over Leamington Spa

above the rush hour traffic, rooftops and spires.

People at bus stops all draped over benches,

bowing to a gum stuck floor as the sun sets.

What if they looked up to see the flickering

shoal of birds as it writhes, as it squirms,

glitches - curves in on itself, explodes out?

And the person jogging down the street,

ears plugged to their phone,

pushchair rolling in time with their feet,

a baby slowly lurching to sleep -

can it see the birds?

Does it hold out a tiny hand

to pluck some magic from the sky?

And the people waiting to cross

as the cars rush by, beeping and

coughing out fumes and noise –

what if they looked up,

saw the birds wash across the sky,

colliding and diving, circling

the sharp incision of a new moon?

Somewhere along the road

a boy stands at his window alone,

framed by the light within,

briefly we see each other, watching -

he dashes to and fro across his landing

presses his face to the glass, disappears,

trying to keep up with the sky

as it rushes above him.

What if we both called out to the others

look, look up!

Would they drop their phones?

Would they set down their bags and bikes,

abandon their cars to the street?

Would time stop for everyone to watch

the starlings murmurate over Leamington Spa

through the sun’s final streaks?

Bunching in, fanning out, welcoming the

night, becoming the darkness,

hundreds of beating hearts beautifully united

before the light drains away,

before they drop down onto buildings

and empty winter branches.