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| Source: information |
Black wings gleam against a grey sky--
Murder of Crows
Beating the air, striking the air
Birds meant to stay in trees,
Perching, watching,
Cawing and shrieking,
Diving in, driving out.
Red feathers, red tail flash--
Only one of a boil of hawks,
Bird meant for the sky--
Gliding and turning,
Sweeping in wide circles.
Black wings flee.
Scree…scree…scree
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P. S. Next post on Samuel had to be postponed, due to brain refusing to obey.
