Three crows flew away
From a limb beside my drive.
I heard them flap
Before I saw them
Rive the muggy morning air
Discordantly.
Evidently I’d disturbed
A muster of our local gang,
Broken up a crow cabal
Convening in an arching ash
To plan corvine agendas.
I’ll never know
Quite what they had in mind . . .
Chevrolet defilement,
Thrush infanticide,
Or just rapacious
Rushes at my lawn.
©2004 John I. Blair
No comments:
Post a Comment