Coast

I thought I found the answer when

the blackbirds formed a swarm,

hovered, lofted off at high speed,

veered, became a composition

of light-dark motion. Sometimes ten

or twenty flew apart, a counterpoint, then

re-collided with the main-flock, merged

into one impulse. One mind among 

a hundred soaring bodies, played 

in twilight, brought night down

onto us, out of pink and blue:

so elated, darkness hardly mattered.