Poem: “Cowbirds”
Cowbirds
Cowbirds chatter, black winged clouds,
Thousands, fruit that sits in branches,
Flocks that wheel above in crowds
If this planet were a tree
And there were far and near observers
Would we seem the same as these?
Cowbirds chitter, wheel and curse,
Descend and roost where they find room,
Cowbirds of the universe
In that mob of shrilling birds
Voices chanting hymns in verses,
Glory I have heard
But faintly through the clacking mob,
Beaks and throats and wings aquiver,
Keen to peck and push and rob
Pavel
October 6, 2011