The air vibrates,
crackles with alarm,
with a dozen voices lifted.
The sky churns,
a-roil with frantic motion,
with wings that beat —
blue, red, brown, gray —
and claws that flex;
with beaks
that jab and split and scream.
The storm
of this haphazard flock,
focused on a soot-winged marauder.
Adorned in ebony,
he cowers beneath their blows,
beneath the arc and unrelenting descent
of their contempt.
Then, with a sullen croak of “uncle”,
he lifts from the roof’s peak,
spreads shadow wings
and flees.
All is still.
Peace returns.
The makeshift flock disperses.
Later,
tucked within the hedge,
spot-breasted and unfledged,
plucked or dropped or wrested
from the nest,
we find young Robin —
unwitting participant,
and silent witness
to all.
— C.Birde, 6/16
4 Comments
it’s interesting for me to realize how the last four lines changed everything. i was about to be glad that the intruder had been chased away, but then find young robin out of the nest. instant empathy! these lines do a fine job of characterizing how savage birds can be: “and claws that flex; with beaks/ that jab and split and scream.” i have to admit that i do have a prejudice for crows, nest-raiders that they are. my brothers and i found a crow in a riverbed whose wings had been brutally trimmed to keep him from flying. he turned out not only to be smart, but a loyal, affectionate friend, as well.
Thank you — I can add that we took the young robin to a licensed avian rehabilitation center, and he is expected to survive and be returned to the wild. 🙂 Also, that, though unfledged robins cannot fly, they can run…fast! Like you, I am actually a fan of crows — I admire their family structure and their intelligence and their loyalty to one another. I am amazed by all I imagine your experience to have been with the crow you rescued! The main character in the short book I recently finished (unpublished) rescued a crow and found a similarly loyal friend in him 🙂
carrie, i think you have kindly urged me into writing a poem about a crow!
Oh, I can’t wait to read it!! 🙂