Sturnus Vulgaris on Mudeford Quay

In the morning sun
As you trilled and chattered
And hopped among the lobster pots
And the blustery wind ruffled
Your downy neck feathers
I saw brilliant emerald, deep purple and gold

Against the evening sky, as ten thousand
Or more
Flock to the roost,
Black squalls billow and fold.

Where have your colours gone?