Every morning a surprisingly large murder of crows commutes north a few miles, flying directly over my house. Their chatter has become a familiar and welcomed bookend to the day. At dusk, they make the return flight to a nature preserve near my house where they hunker down in sycamores and pines for the night. We often go out back to enjoy the show and begin our own winding down.
Computers and Crows
Laptop on knees
honeysuckle skies
breeze pushing clouds out
commuting crows’ cries
cool air
gives way to 80’s
— morning dies
hummers, phoebes,
dragonflies
scents of salvias
no whys
just this
bliss
under brilliant blue skies
Listen to me read “Computers and Crows” here ☝🏼
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I loved this and hearing you read it, too.
Oh how fun is this poem!? It feels like a song!