-nature at both ends-

when the starlings murmured,

pinpricking then sweeping the sky 

like blankets on the line in the wind,

I thought that old Pete Pieroni

would have a field day with his shotgun

picking them off, and fishing the floaters
from the water,

later to be feather-plucked and dropped

into the slow bubbling

pot of tomato sauce simmering

on the gas stove in the kitchen

for the flavor he craved.

starlings, sparrows or any small bird would do;

but this time I’m struck by the beauty.

any lake or field, meadow or still-

footed stance at the junkyard fence,
quick at the trigger,

will work for old Pete's passion for flavor.

he kept a brown paper bag at his side.

he shot what he needed for supper that night.

the beauty he sees will be in the pot.

so the next time you see the starlings

painting the overcast in their murmuration,

and you watch the beauty of them sweeping

the grey with living points of black,

and two muffled cracks disturb the atmosphere

and some of the starlings drop as beautifully,

corkscrewing

down, down, down,... 

you’ll know old Pete Pieroni is hunting

to flavor the sauce of tomatoes with starlings,

soon to be simmering in the pot on the kitchen stove.