Shadow-Tails Poem by Richard George

They come with dawn, silent, quick,
Colonize our parks, our trees
And watch our every move beneath

With jute-black eyes. Bound on bound
Their tails brushstroke the air:
They scan our hallowed lawns

For sites to bury, scrabble soil
Above our dead, and perch
On their head-stones, cherubs with claws,

Clutch chicken bones we chuck in bins
With tiny, praying fingers -
And charm us utterly.


When Easter comes, the males in droves
Chase her scent through fresh new leaves
And fall by, suddenly old:

At the bottom of ladies' gardens
They clown for nuts, caper their last
As shadows lengthen to evening.