suspended on a wire.
Watcher on high
distinguishes all faces and their deeds
from amongst the human throngs below.
All Crows, any Crow
can detect the fireman from the fire.
Little Crows, young Crows,
forever the cleverest ones,
learn from their parents
generationally to memorize
and then attach the face
with each guilty owner's misdeeds
when great indignities have been done.
So much so is each memory a seed,
that each memory expands,
each memory becomes a weed.
And like a weed with runners,
so strongly does the memory take root,
that Crows have developed their own bird language
to alert their clan
a kind of clarion call, a shout occurs
when a specific danger is afoot.
First one caws,
then a cacophony
then in unison...
Crying and communicaing with one another
look here comes the culprit now...
Look out my Sister,
Crows are creative complex creatures.
Crows have Crow take-care know-how.
And when one Crow dies
and that small dark soul ceases to be...
The full Crow contingency gathers
in the tall tops of the trees
then in sudden silent testimony.
And with one rushing sudden burst,
almost like the ending of a song,
in one great black cloud they disperse
then to honor their dead,
they, as one, fly on.
I love crows.
I love birds.
I can watch them for long uninterrupted periods of time.
It gives me peace.
If I could only be as resourceful and intuitive and intelligent as a Crow.
I once watched a busy Crow attempt to open an unwrapped candybar. It was a very cold day.
So, the candy was rather hard. The Crow picked it up in its beak, and at first, rapped it
against the slate roof of a building. Then He side-hopped over to the eaves and dropped it
off the edge. He looked down and threw it to the ground. where it, broke into many pieces,
and came out of its wrapper.
Clever Crow. Very clever indeed. I was amused and laughed out loud, as I watched the Crow
peck away at the newly exposed innards of the broken candy bar.
Meloo Melissa A Howells Tilt-A-World
November 15th, 2010...All Rights Reserved
it feels good to write again.