Now Forager

grackles have invaded our woods
abandoned their cornfield
bade farewell to the evicted scarecrow
as he wobbles away on dusty stalks

they bully their way to the feeders,
these creatures who are shadow and noise
they have their own politics
the solitary red-winged blackbird holds back
dares not cross the invisible line

the ground boils with them
a seething cauldron of black oil
their iridescent heads dazzle
in the morning sun

a sudden shift in the wind,
a foreign sound and they rise in tandem
drawn swiftly upward
by the invisible hand of a puppeteer

all is quiet

all is still

the songbirds return