Ironically, light conquers in late March with a dark flock
of grackles, Attic battalions iridescent, blue/bronze,
black-helmeted. They assail the bird feeders filled
for cardinals, chickadees, sparrows, and mourning doves.
Rising now, brighter sun nears the middle of the hill, moving
north from December. Boat-tailed grackles come from the past
to Rhode Island; shrinking snow now fills the rill
between houses; water rushes into the culvert under the road.
Armor hinges creaking & metal voices cawing,
the horde of grackles sounds Jurassic noise.
Inside the house, behind the glass, the slightest sway
of unseen self, and they sweep away all at once,
a vampire cape shuddering air against the window
in a wave, fleeing sudden awareness.
Copyright 2016, L. Shapley Bassen
L. Shapley Bassen is fiction editor at Prick of the Spindle Journal. Her second novel, Marwa, was published by Coda Crab Books in 2016, and two hybrid poems recently appeared in Foliate Oak Literary Magazine http://www.foliateoak.com/lois-bassen-mike-stanko.html . Her site is: http://lsbassen.com/.