Starling Lady

SONY DSC

Starling Lady

I think the birds will miss her most

Singing as she pulled the weeds

Disturbing insects, snails and seeds

A patient robin on a mossy post

 

The village whispered her name

Teabags used and used again ‘til they were stale

Fag butts smoked to the nail

Bones and feathers the only waste from game

 

Missing her family, she gave them gifts

Homemade woollens, wine and pie

For occasions . .  or just for dropping by

Her birthday a date they often missed

 

She passed in her garden on a warm autumn day

The starlings scattered as they carried her away.

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