Stretching up in a darkness from an elbow reaching to a hand
where fingers curl and poke a silent language
solid shapes wait in a timeless dance.
Screeching out in merciless glide from tall shadows
the crow, hooded and hiding, pierces the heavy air,
lunging at the rapid beating of a kestrel on the wing.
Squealing, reeling, turning and dipping
Kestrel shrieks, retreats in defeat, brow beaten
by the swank and swagger of the self-congratulating carrion.
Circling with and on up-draughts that waft and whirl
the unseen Kite contemplates crow below
before drifting casually into another’s cares.
Stretching up in a darkness from an elbow reaching to a hand
where fingers curl and poke a silent language
solid shapes wait in a timeless dance.
Photo of the hooded crow taken by Heather Rowe.