The Mass by Tye Brown

Tye Brown

A swarming mass of brilliant birds,

Flapping high above the trees,

Which tower above me.

They fly in perfect harmony,

In perfect formation,

With perfect grace.

They fly as one, but are many individuals,

Flying into the late sun.

They will soon disperse,

And the phenomenon will be over,

In an ever saddening instant.

Young Writers 2014