Crows in the Waning Years of a Second Term
Outsized birds, taking over the neighbors’ lawn—
slickly black from beak to heart,
as slick as if they’ve been dipped in oil
and thoroughly soaked.
With their dark sheen they mock
undertakers and churchgoers,
politicians mixing with the folk.
They have a good ear,
of gentler birds without effort,
but their natural song
is a jeer.
I watch them strut
and picture jackboots.
A warning: these creatures live to loot.
Prepare to protect your dog food bowl,
your garbage can, your bird feeder.
Lock your refrigerator door.
Their appetites are bottomless;
good times, bad times,
they always do well.
Public birds with public vices,
what do they really caw about,
except what they can devour?
© Tony Russell, 2007