The murder of crows
settle among my trees.
Perched in clumps of five and ten
directly outside my window.
bobbing up and down,
calling out imagined insults or directions.
The cacophony drives me to take out my camera
to capture their show.
A white polka dotted curtain masks their many faces.
Snow is falling.
Black bodies create graphic bird shaped splotches
along the vertical lines of tree branches
rising upwards into gray skies.
Two birds sit closely together.
The one on the right leans towards the other.
He strokes the her head gently with his beak.
She sits still.
Accepting his sweet caresses.
He is tender and patient.
I cannot see if she lifts her face to him.
The falling white snow obscures their intimacy.
Two lovers among the crowd of gawking onlookers.