the crows

the crows never left
this winter
which is not a thing
you notice

at first
but as awareness dawns
you think
about whether they

were missed somewhere else
which leads to
more questions like
where weren’t they?

like was there a murder
a quorom
at the neglected conclave?
it makes me think

as I watch them
dip and roll
I used to be like
they are

still
acrobats vagabonds
scavengers rakes
dark and shiny and free

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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6 Responses to the crows

  1. I love crows. There’s a murder of them here that roost together every night north of here. West Nile decimated them a few years back but they straggle and fly over us every evening now. Always around 4-5, like they have office jobs…

  2. warmginger says:

    Now, I have absolutely loved your poetry from day one, but recently you’ve been on fire. Amazing words seem to be just pouring out of you…

  3. Ray Sharp says:

    thank you, johnny and ginnie. we were just discussing how this one’s a bit wordy in the middle but the juicy bits are the last 9 lines

  4. Pingback: decisions on where | whimsy~mimsy

  5. Whimsy Mimsy says:

    🙂 definitely full of juicy bits, in my opinion!

  6. Agreed. It’s a strong finish…and I hear the Rooks are back in the UK. 😉

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