Coyote Crossing

Jungle crows have taken over Tokyo… huge crows the size of ravens. When they sit on a wall top or gable and their eyes glint down at you, there is no mistaking the intelligence. Many people shudder in discomfort and trepidation, but somehow I take comfort in knowing there are others who as intelligent, if not more, as we are, waiting on the sidelines as we screw up the world. I think crows will know what to do in the aftermath.

Oh, by the way… a real sun-bleached boards and barbwire poem. Just what crows are.

Good God, this isn’t fair.  Nobody who writes prose as beautiful as yours has any business writing beautiful poetry too!

I love crows, and this captures all their swagger and “keck.”

I know, they’re a trash species — invading everywhere; loud, quarrelsome, endlessly adaptable; brutally displacing the natives.  But then, that just describes us to a tee too, doesn’t it?  I don’t see where human beings could get off, condescending to crows.  We’re the trash species par excellence.

I like crows, too.  (Not surprising!)  I especially love it when they hop along the ground, tilt their heads at you, and say “Gronk!”  I really like this poem, too; as Dale says, it really captures the essence of crow.

i have always found corvids endlessly fascinating — and so is the flow of your poem. i envy your complete comfort around words!