The Crow sew a clumsy pirouette silhouette,
(Throw up the net!)
IN THE AIR,
Arms akimbo, he turns — spiral primal —
What quarrel does he have with me?
… Long black feathers;
I’m just standing here, admiring,
The wise Crow knows, tries to rise,
Flies back to the top of the telephone pole
Home base — beak bayonet [stab jab]
Pulls up a small “coin” in his mouth.
We all need our treasures.
Emerging shadows, a Crow flirtatious proceeded to untie my shoelaces. Crows eluding Mockingbirds’ good graces, pursue each other around “the bases“. I saw three Crows on a wire fence [stasis] — companionable perch, silent voices. Thrusting its neck out, the Crow made faces; “The Caw” left almost physical traces. When a black Crows flies it’s almost gracious,
long wings [serene] stretching through the ages.
When a Crow speaks, it’s a definite page;
Calling all sensitives – time to engage!
The Crow [plisky] untied his shoelaces.
Is this because he doesn’t know faces?
When a Hawk’s near, the Crows KERFUFFLE!
“Get Away,” they scream feathers a-ruffle.
Long lush green grass, dark feathers akimbo;
Two lustrous Crows dance a jammy limbo.
Big Crow lands on my porch rail, silently
And stares at me — quietly — intently.
Perched on the precipice, telephone pole — The huge black Crow cawed, to connect his goal. When a Crow’s calling, he thrusts his head out, Extends his neck, feathers a visual “shout”. His whole body’s involved in this cawing, Beak slightly open — this bird’s vibrating. I think he’s lonely, looking for kinfolk; Take a chance, roll that dice, go for broke. When birds are talking they give it their ALL. I’m running down the Hall; will I trip and fall?