corvine politics

 

The crows are very vocal today.

Their caws cause me to glance up,

As like black ink characters

Painted on a pale blue sky,

They fly along and across the street,

Back and forth, in and away.

I know their kind, it’s like mine,

Ruthless, intelligent, and incredibly social.

I know that they can summon each other

To form flocks when they need to.

I have seen them mass thirty strong

To shout abuse

At an owl hiding behind leaves.

They can form squadrons

To harass herons.

And sometimes they gather together

As a black parliament

In the hilltop tree.

Do they agree there  to depose old king crow?

Does a feathered delegation tell him

That his rule is ended?

I sit earthbound and wonder

As corvine politics goes on,

Way above my head.