Crows

I would like to be a crow if nothing else
garbed in a sable cape
Huddled like a shrouded miscreant
eager to torment hawks and owls
to ease the boredom of liberty

I would join the ranks of grinning things
in flight like black arrows sailing
for the common places
Such joy to strut with royal clones
rolling chicken bones down wooden shingles
with an eye to the stupid dogs

I would bow before the sun
then surrender to the flighty winds,
rise like smoke with my shadowed fiends
Most pleased I would say
to chuckle away the permissible days