Of a feather

Caw caw
Endlessly talking
Marching across the yard
Talk talk talk
This summer eve.
Something new to these woods,
The new family of the forest.
Non stop they wait and watch,
Not even worthy of being chased
My silly pups think, who tire of the sport
When it is an unattainable prize.
They wait for me to fall over,
To peck out my eyes he tells me
And I laugh sounding like the birds of a feather
Flocking together
Caw caw endlessly moving
Flying
Darting
Waiting
Then flying a close distance into the trees
To wait and watch some more.
I am not dead I call out to them,
Caw caw they know for now
But I’m sure they’ll wait,
For the someday to arrive.

Thoughts on a new bunch of birds who took up residence in the woods. Going to be a very loud summer she caws to herself. If I were a bird, I would chirp or tweet, but let loose with a scream like a hawk in the night, in case the professor pondered about that. I know a lady who will love the black birds. For you L.

9 thoughts on “Of a feather

  1. My favorite garden friends are the scrub jays…I talk to them as if they spoke English, and they answer right back in Jayspeak. My 4 year old granddaughter asks, “Do you speak bird, Grammy?” and I just smile. Enjoy your crows! – Fawn

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