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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
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Today we present a poem by Rob MacWolf,
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whose voice you may by now be passingly familiar with.
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You can find more of his work in the historical fiction anthologies
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“When The World Was Young,”
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or “In the Light of the Dawn”
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available from the Furry Historical Fiction Society,
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or on his SoFurry page.
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Read by Solomon Harries,
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Cuddly Badger Dad.
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Please enjoy “The Starling Master”,
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a poem by Rob MacWolf
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Amid the mid-air rushing the Starling Master stands
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Invisible to every eye not of his feathered kin.
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The starlings wheel around him to his soundless swift commands,
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Above, beneath, beside him they rush out and they rush in,
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In orbit all about him does their fluttering vortex spin,
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While he his way upon the wild wind wanders. From his hand
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Intangible there flies a thread To each bird's heart, to each bird's head,
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So at a twitch of joy and dread They hear and understand.
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They swoop to his command.
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The birds, his kites innumerable, he steers among the peaks,
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Each is his kite upon his string to cut the windy streaks,
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Among the roofs and chimneys. He smiles, and never speaks.
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As does a blast of wind upon a fading autumn tree
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That in its gilded crimson leaves lets slip its singing soul,
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So bursts the flock at his approach, arising fast and free
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Up from the bare dun boughs, round him in harmony to roll,
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Up from the boughs of slumber, woken barely in control.
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He smiles in recognition. He knows each bird's history:
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The little triumphs, little wars, The stormy hymns their choir outpours,
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The dizzy height each fears, and soars, And cries aloud to see,
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Cries out most endlessly.
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But though he hears them when they call and shepherds where they fly,
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He hears the blackbird voices that he shepherds through the sky,
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They never hear a word from him until the day they die.
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These are the things that starlings know: that life is cold and sweet
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As northwest stormfront windsheer, that trees rock you to sleep,
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That flocks that flock together no tempest can defeat,
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That if you die before you wake, trust him your soul to keep,
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And when you die, trust him to lead you where the sky is deep.
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Go watch them, brooding watchfully to hear his wayward feet
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Upon the empty air, and you, Between cloud grey and cobalt blue, May see his unseen coming too Above you in the street,
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Beneath the wild wingbeat.
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Amid his multitude of birds the Starling Master goes,
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Amid the winds he walks on, that billow through his clothes,
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Where no man knows to look for him.
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Only a starling knows.
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This was “The Starling Master”
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by Rob MacWolf, read for you by Solomon Harries,
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Cuddly Badger Dad.
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Thank you for listening
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to The Voice of Dog.