Today's poem is by Elizabeth Joy Levinson

The Starlings of Bridgeport
       

Above the city that burned
and burned and was rebuilt with lights
that bounce off the atmosphere
and yellow the sky, casting out the stars,
the starlings rise.
With wings spread
they darken the night again,
and feathers, lit at the tips,
spark like dying embers.

They create constellations
and call out new compositions to each other.
No one understands why.
They have risen from the ashes
of a wild city that burned years ago
and were buried beneath foundations
of brick and concrete.
Every night, just before the city sleeps
the starlings call out
and a memory might respond.

Copyright © 2025 Elizabeth Joy Levinson All rights reserved
from Uncomfortable Ecologies
Unsolicited Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission