A murder of crows congregate in my dooryard
They accost me on the way to the garage
Avian trick-or-treaters all clad in the same costume
Questioning my lack of edible garbage lately
'What gives? ' one asks, and the others join in
'How long since you've cleaned out your fridge? '
My corbie friends are never too proud to beg
Never grossed out by oozing rotten things
Winged scavengers with uncanny intelligence
Unappreciated by most of humanity
Considered an ill-omen in many cultures
Hated enemy of farmers all over the world
I enjoy watching them ambling around on my lawn
Their dark feathers iridescent in the sunlight
Eerie voices echoing off the rocks and water
The self-proclaimed sentries of my compost pile
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great flow and form to this poem with slightly satirical flavor. powerful opening and awesome last line, 'self-proclaimed sentries of my compost pile'. enjoyable read! -Tailor