Just Another Murder of Crows
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JUST ANOTHER MURDER OF CROWS
A poem by Ellen Gwaltney Bales
All day long he hears them screeching
Up in the trees
Their raucous cries
Their “Scree, scree, screes”
He does his best to ignore them
To shut out their death call
Have they come for him, he wonders
In the ever-darkening pall
The vile black wings fluttering,
Now beating against the sky
They’re saying the time has come
The time for him to die.
Will that be his fate?
To feel the evil limbs
Envelop him, thumping out their hate
Stabbing at his eyes,
Make him realize
All is not lost
Must he pay the cost
And the screeching goes on
Copyright © Ellen Gwaltney Bales | Year Posted 2023
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