Thursday 10 January 2008


Churring calls, flurrying birds
flashing red and yellow
on this season’s improbable
feast of berries.

The flock wheels over
our heads, settles
in a bare tree
crests silhouetted

against a cold blue sky.

previously published in Moonstone

(The Waxwing is a European bird that occasionally turns up in large numbers in eastern parts of the UK in winter. Waxwings visited Edinburgh in December 2004 and we had several good sightings of them. I think we saw waxwings again recently though I may have been mistaken as they were quite a way away and there are no official records of waxwings in Edinburgh this year!)


Anonymous said...

We have small flocks of Cedar Waxwings that come by work to eat berries. The flock gets smaller every year.

Crafty Green Poet said...

brian - so sad to see the flock get smaller every year...

Janice Thomson said...

Love the imagery. Waxwings are such a beautiful bird.

mm said...

Isee the colours in the first verse.

And the moving and static shapes in the second.

And I feel the cold in the last line.

Just lovely, CGP. And it's made me curious about waxwings, though we may be lucky to see them over here in the Marches .....

Unknown said...

Ooo this one is lovely! I am sure there must be some lovely birds tucked away somewhere here in Afghanistan, but I've only ever seen sparrows and magpies. Deforestation here hasn't helped.

Anonymous said...

What a treasure this poem is ... I can see their crests silhouetted against the cold blue sky ... beautiful