Urban Crows

Infallible routine, impeccable timing...

The brotherhood of crows in their
early evening flight.
These are the rotund shadowed moons
that gawk and gallop about concrete streets
feeding on our poisoned bread.

In the evening, stout communication
and godspeed,
they return to their urban roost.

Voluptuous ballerinas covered in soot.
Your grace inhibited on earth seems only realized in swift motion.

This honorable and redundant journey provokes responses of gleeful awe and subsequently a need for devotional words and phrases.

What can we offer you in the form of libations or litanies?

Because our own ill-fated relationship with time inspires shame.
It is we, that must have the experience of you.
You are flying.
We have failed. We fall short.
You hop off rooftops, undaunted.

Why can’t you just be a crow?

And yet I still wait for you,
with ferocious eyes and misunderstanding.
And I recall the words of an elderly man in the hallway,
He is watching the cars go by at dusk,
We have to do something.