Starlings: Come close, but stay away. The urge to flock, arrested at the last moment by beaks’ roving jabs, wings’ need to stretch.
Birded wires braided hundreds of meters of roadside. Within thirty minutes, the sun was down. The moon shed the season’s first frost onto metal, feather, and trash-strewn verge.
David George Haskell 
What a gorgeous photograph, David! Spectacular.
“Birded wires braided..” Your touch remains intact.
only the visiting moon abides
Fabulous photo. Thanks.
Kay MacKenzie