Birds In The Wind

Today's wind is a hook, a battering ram,
multiple hands kneading and pummelling
branches, walkers on will-o'-the-wisp sand.
Like the quest to unlock withheld speech,
the fraught ascent of birds in down draughts:
then they bullet or rock through turbulence,
each wing riff a dauntless flourish.
Some, borne aloft on unseen carpets,
scud sleekly to the point of choice between
a buffeted freedom or veering fall.
Wind-chasing swifts hunt in sweeps near the ground.
Higher up, light clasps seed- and cross-shapes,
irradiates umber fans. The river
crests into gull wings, flying inland.