Monday, November 16, 2015

Pecking Order (#PoetryMonday *)

There are crows
and there are not crows.

The not crows flock
near the house
around the feeders
jostling for position
scattering empty husks
and uneaten seed
mindlessly.

The crows fly nearby
          circling
             cawing
marking the blue fall sky
with foreboding.

The not crows,
dark like crows
but smaller,
move in pecking
hordes, bird gangs
overwhelming feeders
and harassing away
the more interesting
and colorful birds.

The crows fly nearby
          circling
             cawing
marking the blue fall sky
with aloofness.

The not crows,
ignoring the crows,
clean out the given seed
like locusts defoliating the land,
then flash away
like so many dead leaves
scattered by the chilly
gusts.

The crows fly nearby
          circling
             cawing
marking the blue fall sky
with remembrance.

The more interesting,
more colorful birds
return in ones and twos
and feast nonchalantly
among the remains.

The crows fly nearby
          circling
             cawing
marking the blue fall sky
with longing.

There are crows
and there are not crows,
and there are, leftover,
the better birds of our nature.








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* It's PoMo! To learn about PoMo (POetry MOnday), click here and then scroll down. 

What started out as a simple musing about the birds at the bird feeders seems to have taken a turn toward the philosophical. Sometimes a bird is just a bird, but is this the case here? Hmmm. What do you think? Feel free to share your thoughts and impressions in the comments. But at the same time keep in mind the quote in the graphic. Just saying.


This poem is included in this collection:

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