See the small bumps of regional decisions:
sudden domes of hop that represent the moment
everyone decided not to fly off, or the earth
twitched like horse muscle beneath fly tickle.
On occasion a larger relocation - moving
to the field across the path, the detached flag
of half a murmuration - the span of them
turning to land: easy to see the stagger
at the tail end, but try to peer into
the atomised heart of the moment explosion began.
I have ceased to believe it exists. At least
in terms of a single point where the impulse
enters the flock. Watch them this time thinking:
everyone is following. Everyone is following.
It seems to make great sense of the eddies
in their flows, but needs to come closer:
some follow something other than each other.
putting the oak back