Crows playing 'what's next' in the sun

I watched crows, several of them, cavort in the wind on a sun-filled Sunday afternoon.
They turned circles in a cold breeze, the wind canting their black wings to produce a rocking sensation.
They’d act like they’d land on the top-most branches of winter-bare trees, pumping their wings at the last minute to turn another circle.
I opened the sliding-glass door, heard the pierce of their calls as they circled; I watched their black shadows cross sinister over a snow-covered rooftop from my vantage on the second-floor patio.
Their calls punctured a lazy afternoon; their circles grew tighter, more focused.
Those circles, those penetrating calls, are still with me. Haunting.
Turning circles.
Calling out to the wind.
Waiting for what’s next.


quin browne said...

i'm sending you my daughter's email addy.... she filled me in with her thoughts about ravens yesterday.

you two can share. :)

Anonymous said...

If you’ve watched the crows, then you know
waiting’s just a word for what’s happ’ning
when you’re watching your what’s-nexts forming
as thoughts that are now and will be stepping
stones where you’ll go, like the crows on wind go