Generally every morning I am greeted by a crow or two, sometimes obviously, sometimes a couple passing overhead. I stop now, close my eyes, and feel myself sheathed in silken black feathers, shoulders straining to flap the wings....for a moment or two, and then open and return to earth. Several years ago, I was driving my son to work and we had crossed a dirt road intersection and had to come to a complete stop. The road, the verges, the cornfield to the left of the road were filled with crows and crows and crows. I had never experienced anything like that scene before...or since.
September Crows
every crow in the county must be here
piling down onto the harvested field
rustling onto the gravel road in great rushes
gleaning
rising
sweeping
settling
I stopped and watched
this swirling whirl of crows
black mystics of unbounded earth
I'd time to wait their pleasure
as they pleasured me
another came with less content
to watch the sweep of crows
black feathers flicked to lift
the sleek bodies from the surface
I too moved slowly on
awed by hundreds
in crow cacophony
meeting on a warm September morning
Peace,
Cherie