Wednesday, October 14, 2015

On Crows (and Other Scavengers)...


They have always been

And always will be.

Their calls echo through the air in a timeless song

The beggar and the thief call them friend

They are reviled and ridiculed

They are ignored and devalued

Their purpose is not understood or known.

They live alone in a group and laugh


They seek life from death

And convert death to life

The balance of both on a rope swung

From side to side in a wild wind.

When nothing existed but love

When all is gone but love

They will still be alive to clean up the pieces

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