A grey crow stands its ground

A grey crow stands its ground

     Gawks at me

     Laughs as I pass

     Morning Blackbird

     Singing its Gregorian Chant

     This is my hour of ease

     A time of giving thanks

     For leaves and soft whisperings

     For the breeze as it turns into May

     For Swallows dancing home

     For the Woodcock as it climbs into the sky

     claps its wings

     Free falls

     Picks itself up again

     Spit firing in the sky

    For the  random fellowship of change

     All is as it is


great crow