Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Crow Speak

 

A crow, high up on the wires,

a knot of night-time

grumbling this last fifteen minutes;

gabbling inside his feathers

obscenity-filled arguments;

a vituperative stream.


Fagots of words issuing fluently,

from the throat behind his horny beak,

a language long hidden beneath the cloak

of feather and pitch;

a communication with the sky

as present and natural as weather.

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