Nocturnal

Under their silence, under
their dark feathers,
                           birds,
a minor seraphim of
birds, a hive
                  of tiny starlings
in a world of frost,
though sound asleep now
in the night's domain,
                               unmoving
in the icy cold,
                      still keep
the notes of the song,
still hold
            the dream of the
warmth of the dawn,
                              under their
eyelids, under their closed
wings.

Copyright © 2004 Paul Murray All rights reserved
from These Black Stars
Dedalus Press / Dufour Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission