leaves wings and other such things

rustle in the brush

a colony, a company, a flock, a parliament, a party—
when birds gather to nest in bushes, scrub, or briar patch i wonder,
do they converse? do they discuss community policy?
or do they merely affirm each other’s presence with a nod of the beak?

i would like to think that they cluster together, speaking through body language
& outstretched wings,
the cool soil in their toes, surrounded by the smell of the brush
& imaging life without the presence of man.

peeping in to see the community of birds in the bushes

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

About the author


i am a hand-drawn line. an illustrator & designer who is curious about flora, fauna, human creatures, & glyphs.

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