It is impossible as head-nodders for us to learn the true subject of our gossip.
But gossip we do, nod we do, smile and frown and clap we do like starlings at early dawn; we flap, we rustle, we cling together and rise from the grasses flying this way and that, seeking the leader whose randomness fails us.
At sundown the murmeration ceases and together we rustle, we rhyme with the rhythm of the restless till darkness overcomes. Tomorrow we rise again and like the murmeration of starlings we dismount from our roosts, our heads awaggle,
we’ll gossip and gaggle,
the bloated carcasses of our forgotten comrades adding nourishment to the earth and one or two will say “do you remember whatsisname?”.
Oh yes comes the answer, he had so many strange, new ideas.
And with heads abob we bestow our final, limited approval in measured doses and our world nods approval to the brief observance of continuity, forgetting yet another true leader.
LEADERSHIP: A LOVE STORY Lee Broom