A flittery, fluttery,
quarrel of brown bullets,
I watch as they charge about the sky.
With no road markings
or rules to guide their way
how do they not crash one into another?
Startled, they fire themselves into our hedge -
Impervious to thorns and prickles,
piercing through impenetrable barbs
and spikey branches
into the dappled light.
Only to then publicise their presence
with a tumultuous twittering.
An uninhibited, joyous chorus of
chittery, chattering. Safe in the knowledge -
that no matter how closely I look,
they will remain elusively invisible.