In darkened face and cloak of silvery gray
I see them often though not every day.
He takes his prey by the element of surprise
By darting from tree tops to snatch bees and flies
He and his wife they raise their chicks then fly away
The migrant birds in one place never stay.
His voice to it has a distinctive ring
And some people know him as the ‘shufflewing’
A dove sized bird and like a hawk in flight
And he always shuffles his wings on branch when he alight.
He and his wife they raise their family
In flimsy nest of sticks high up on tree
And at breeding time the pair aggressively
Defend the borders of their territory.
The black face cuckoo shrike as i recall
Is one without a look alike at all
Wearing silver cloak and dark around the face
He’s one who doesn’t stay long in any place.