The Crows Come at Sunset

by Alanna


From all corners of the sky

Black silhouettes winging together as a noisy flock

On their way to their secret destination

Which I long to know


I imagine they are sent from the spirit world

Spies in the sleek bodies of birds

Black as shiny coal

From beak to tail


They find their nightly roost

In the high branches of leafy trees

An avian barroom full of raucous cawing and flapping of wings

As they share the events of their day


The news comes as far as the cold lands of the Far North

To the dry, pastel arroyos of the Southwest

all the way to the crowded cities of the East

Stories they observed from the world of humans

Comedies born from intelligence gone bad


 The jokes and stories are centuries old

recycled with different characters

Told with such squawking hilarity

That feathers loosen in the crows’ wild animations

And float earthward beneath the branches


The party goes on as the sky turns dusky to dark

Stars slowly appear

The birds’ black eyes grow heavy and their voices silent

Then all that can be heard is the sound of crow breathing

And the song of crickets that welcome the night



photo courtesy Pixabay


6 Comments to “The Crows Come at Sunset”

  1. Reblogged this on Tao Talk and commented:
    Came across this lovely poem today. Perfect encapsulation of an often-scorned, often-dismissed, but wise critter, the crow.

  2. …and what a nice party it would be!

  3. This was such a fun and delightful read. Loved the creative thought you used in this! Great imagery!

    • Chuck, Thanks so much for taking the time to comment on my poem. I have been watching and wondering about these crows for 24 years. This poem was a bit experimental and I was not sure how it would be received. To know that others have found delight in my writing is a great honor to me.

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