are not white
they make noise
they do the dirty work
sun flashes off feathers
thronged with lice
eyes don’t bead, they shine
before a crow brought us fire
fable says crows were white
as if black were misfortune
stalk, stroll, shoulder toss
sheer black in clear light
chase a hawk, tear at roadkill
a crow is the first bird
you see in a strange land
the last you hear as you leave
the world teems with crows
a crow’s caw transposes
one thing into something else
nothing is nothing to a crow
a gap doesn’t mean empty
every trace is a treasure to keep
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