Tuesday, February 14, 2012

A brief poem-like observation, about crows

The crows roosted outside my office window in Bloomington tonight. 
They called and scolded and begged each other, high up in the cold trees. 

And when they seemed settled, for reasons known only to them, 
hundreds would suddenly leap into the air, silent except for the rush of black wings.

c. 1625–50 / 
Japanese Artist