The upstart crow.

Random acts of poetry- if you like it share it...

The upstart crow.

Crows are not stupid birds
they make tools, showing
A keen intelligence and
Through this they have
A society, a hierarchy
Within their murder.
I have watched them often,
Bobbing as they walk, little black
Scholars cap, an order or pattern
to their hopping dance.
I have listened to them chatter,
Snapping caw's of irritation as
One breaks the ritual of generations.
Then as judgement is passed
By the murderous Jury they turn
As one to punish the individual.
Not today though, not this Corvid,
As if a great event had been
Orchestrated and not at the
Conductors command, one lone
Maverick takes the blackbirds
Stand and begins to sing.
As those unfamiliar notes carry out
So the gathering begins to move.
Circles within spirals around the
Ashen one. A movement without
Purpose, a last and final chance
To be apart from the flock...
Until I coughed and it all stopped
Returning rhyme back into reason.