On an autumn walk at the ides of day I saw birds of a feather fly together away. As they flew over flames In an ides-of-day way They got caught in the weather And so forever became The tall twisted tale That we hear of so much: Two birds with one hailstone, Death from maelstrom above.
Birds of a feather flock together.
Also wanna give a shoutout to the Romans and their calendar for bringing the word "ides" to mind.