The Crows Poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri

Our dark symbols largely cry out at midnight
When the streetlight’s crooked shadows fall
On the half-lit roofs and cement water tanks.
They had smelt of darkness during the day
Their wings now flap from the coconut’s darkness.
At the unlit corner where awareness takes blind turn
We secretly launch the struggle against these birds
Which have shied away from our rice balls.
Our ancestors have listened to our Sanskrit prayers
They should come as crows to eat their fill
Our rice balls are on the wall amid broken glass
We cant let them starve in the other-world.
This year on the death-day the crows visited us
Just like all these years but their beaks refused
To touch our carefully rolled rice balls
We pray to all our ancestors who had disappeared
On the burning sands of the waterless river.
We hope the crows will eat our rice next year.