Black birds race by my window.

I see them

out of the corner

of my eye,

and sunlight fades

into dark clouds

threatening to take over

the skies.

I stare out the window

in search of them,

but there is no trace

nor feather.

But I know I saw them

as clear as daylight,

so where did they fly?

Or was it death walking by,

and was the door of change

opening again?

Only time will tell,

and as I turn away

from the window,

black birds appear,

still flying on by.

Black Birds

by, Melissa R. Mendelson