Listening To Corvids On A Spring Morning

by David Asia (April 2013)

A murder of crows

A clamor of crows

A clash

A mash

A marauder of crows,

Descending

En mass

Through the scrittle and scree

Of the magpies’ endeavors

In the bare willow tree.

What a ruckus ensues!

All kinds of abuse,

Obscenities not even sailor would use.

And this scuffling of branch

And flutterance of wing

Is their discordant dance

To the coming of spring,

To the woodlot’s rebirth,

The freshening earth,

And the loitering evenings

That summer will bring.

Gone is the darkness,

The somnolent snows,

And gone is the freedom

To languish and doze.

Now there’s work to be done,

Calls the caw and the cackle

Work to be done

Squawks this cacophonous gackle,

This ear smacking sklackle

Of magpies and crows.

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