I faced into the wind so hellishly fierce
I must spread out some wings my life here is scarce
Cuddling some cold lunch I walked dodging brown leaves
Until I sat on a lonely bench beneath two tall trees
Hungrily thinking over the past, I devoured the poor food
I thought about travel and a future, I brewed and stewed.
‘CAW’ the crows began eyeing with hope.
A dozen stood before me and stared.
As one body each eye centred on our lunch
Intimidated and amused I threw it with a hunch
That these Norse eye’s of Wodin would take to the air,
vying each other eat with some flair
the morsels of sweet bread arcing from my hand
not once on the leafy floor would land.
Wodin of war, these eyes have me cornered
The carnivorous crows that follow blood battles of foes.
The crows I see follow a strong leader
the fellow at back the first eyes for the pack
His caw will lift them as one to the air
His judgement is for their safety, its proper its fair
Humanity never had this trait
They lead by their greed behind a big gate.