Flock of Fabric

A flock of feathered fabric
Stretches, pulls and whips its myriad wings
Thin as a silken ribbon
They coil, spiral
And descend on the wire
A swatch of raven, or seagull
A momentary settlement
They watch the moving cars and changing streetlights
Then, they scatter
Black threads shred
Into the blue wash expanse
Until, they evaporate
As speckles of distant ink
On a freshly pressed heaven