Interview with a murder of crows
“I can fly but often walk instead,
swaying to the wind-drifts in my head.
I know I have wings, but that doesn’t make
flying always the best route to take.”
“You love the many-colored birds of Spring
and see us as one solidly dark thing,
but look more closely and our feathers show
all of the colors glossed into rainbows!”
“When one of our tribe is in pain or hurt,
we don’t leave her or him back in the dirt.
We gather round the hurt one for protection
until the hurt heals. There’s no disconnection.”
“It might come to you as a surprise
how well we know you once you’ve caught our eyes.
We have a very long, strong memory
For kindness. Treat us well and you will see.”
“We have no pretty songs with which to woo
your ears; our voices sound harsh to us, too.
Still, if you watch and listen, we can teach
much that’s worth knowing, even without speech.”
And with that last, the interviewing ended,
but not before we solidly befriended
one another. Now I watch them fly
in rivers overhead in wintry sky.