the clustered blues
have come to feed,
loud, gorgeous
wing of seven,
flying in with
unexpected grace,
slight hesitation in
each landing on a limb,
the power of their wings
allowing float.

the vision of
a singleton,
movement caught
up in the tree
but without sense of
pattern, common trait,
while with the whole, it is
nature making dance
to catch the eye.

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our feeders draw large clusters of particular birds, along with the ones and twos and threes of others. the grace of the jays in the apple tree caught my eye.