Something to Crow About

Something to Crow About

 

The murder of crows flew up

like synchronized dancers –

rising up from the WalMart parking lot,

making black smudges on a gray sky

One had a prize pinched between its beak

like a lucky bargain hunter rushing home

to brag about its find

 

 

 

 

Quadrille #193: Poems in a Pinch 

As The Crow Flies

Fireblossom Friday : Corvid and sit a while.
There are crows in the garden today

~
As The Crow Flies

The crow looked out
Across the farm and saw
The plume of toxic fumes
That seemed to settle everywhere

The crow drew circles in the sky
And watched the bees and
Butterflies struggle to
Survive without the blooming
Wave of wildflowers

He saw the spill of inky oil
Like Rohrsach blots upon
The coastline where water
Fowl and fish no longer swam

He followed streams of shining cars
To factories and smoking stacks
That filled the air with particles
He could not breath then fell
To earth again as rain that will not
Quench Earth’s thirst
The crow looked down
From a dead tree branch
And sobbed, “Murder!”