The starling sat in the weathered oak tree
without the chirping voices of his flock.
Lost and confused and very late for tea,
he thought he might find them down by the docks.
He asked every bird on the waterfront,
from seagulls to terns to the grey heron.
After a while the starling took a punt
and followed the canal to the barrens.
There he found his flock, bristling in a tree.
When dusk fell, the starlings began to sing
and took to the air in a fluent stream,
dancing as the sun was slowly dimming.
Darkness fell and a half moon ascended,
the lost starling's search had at last ended.
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