A Murder of Crows
in the evening
perched on branches
sharp and pointed
they decide your fate
pulling stars down
measuring your worth
washing your lies
with their black ragged
wings linking owls
to the moon
(c) 2017 Jan Darrow
photo - pixabay
photo - pixabay
Love this, there is a rookery in a copse nearby and your poem could easily transfer to it. I often wonder what they are saying to each other as I wander below them.
ReplyDeleteThere is a folktale that crows will gather and decide the capital fate of another crow, hence .... a murder of crows. However, I think they're up there telling ghost stories. Of course I'm kidding! But I would like to listen in. I'm so glad you're enjoying the poetry!
Delete