flight

when we are looking for a little magic

we gather together on a branch of the tree

huddled, crouching,

soft brown feathers interlocking

tips of beaks to tips of tails

waiting 

for some noise louder than the rest

some boom, some bang, some crash

some excuse for flight

for leaves to gently fall as we rise

to disrupt the wind with our round, hollow bellies

to have heads turn, face up,

follow our path in awe and delight

despite the fact that we do this every day.

we do it for you–

your slightly opened mouth, 

your softly uttered, wow.