This morning I awoke to a Murder of Crows.

You know that is what they call

a gathering of large, nosy black birds.

Corvus brachyrhynchos in case you want to know.

When I first heard the ruckus I thought,

Oh it’s time for the first rain, but when it continued

and escalated I had to take a look.

The top of the tall tree across the street

was black and flapping with crows,

crows diving and circling

crows vying for space at the top,

crow king of the hill if you will.

There must have been 12 or 100.

Now I understand the term “Counting Crows”

It’s an impossible task

and  capturing a picture was impossible too,

that is if you’re like me, and stand there with my mouth wide open, eyes staring,

watching the black marauders circle  around and around  until

as if  cued by some unseen signal they carve a final arc then head West.

My friend 3 miles East had the same visitation

atop her tall tree the night before.

So anyone in say,  San Fransisco

or Honolulu, Wake or Manila

when this Murder of Crows stop by

let me know if these fugatives

are still headed West.

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