Mossies

You wouldn't know they were there.
Just a flick of a wing
or a hop to the side.
Their shadows in the setting sun could
just as well
be the shade of a tuft of grass
or a small rock

They move. As one.
A rolling wave of wingbeats
on the parched ground.
A trill from the sergeant bird,
the disordered ranks
vault into the air.

Their cloud drifts away.
An avian shoal
silhouetted
against the dry tawny grass.





*Mossies: Afrikaans name for Cape Sparrows