Swallows

While sitting outside on my front porch,
a flurry of brown swooped down,
and descended on my lawn.

I turned around from my cushioned chair,
to try and figure why, or what may have
caused these birds to assemble so suddenly.

Forty, fifty, maybe even more,
it’s hard to say. They looked
like one fairly thick dust cloud.

And, if as they were being
directed, or choreographed;
Their tiny heads bent down, and up,
as they grazed and searched each
blade, of Autumn’s defiant grass.

With a swoosh and swish,
they quickly thrust themselves
across the street, and divided
their group into three.

Then once more, I gazed at
my little lawn, and there were
still birds, three or four, maybe more.

And truly, because of the common weather;
they must have realized, that the
other man’s grass, was, in fact,
not at all greener.