The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
CROW SONG©
AS THE CROW FLIES
WAY AHEAD OF HER DINNER TIME FISH TREAT
Rosie comes to the front porch
and she is sitting in the folding chair
I look beyond her out the window, for what?
and see crows
hundreds, maybe thousands
filling streets and yards in all directions
as far as the eye can see
opening the window to reassure her
I wonder if she can hear me over the din
as a car tries to pass
a few birds flap away, just enough
winter is when they come
as they have for years
at first they filled just the branches of our maple tree
which is huge, fully seventeen feet in circumference
making it seem dark, as though the leaves had not fallen
and at first I picked up on Rosie's apprehension
each year the flock gets bigger, filling neighbor's trees
I remember one crow in particular
it used to watch as I mowed a customer's lawn
hopping around there just out of reach
sort of playing
then one day I saw it being chased up high by a much smaller bird
I took a liking to both of them
later in that same neighborhood I was mowing
when a young bird fell into the backyard
I stopped my machine
picked up the youngster, who was unable to fly
and knocked from door to door
offering a free gift
which was rejected
sometimes vituperatively
until finally a woman arriving home with her kids immediately smiled
and said thanks
they had recently lost a bird they all loved very much
another time next to some apartments I maintain
the crows landed right alongside in the street
sort of playing, looking at me as they might be laughing
hopping around
and it was right at those apartments where a pair of them one day
sitting on the telephone wires
were clearly distressed
and I saw their baby struggling on the ground next to the dumpster
that time a rescuer was easily found
one summer when it was not time for the flock
I was relaxing in the backyard reading a book about Jefferson
a pair dropped in
landing just overhead in the maple tree
they had brought an argument that demanded my attention
the accusations were unmistakable
I could empathize and just accepted it
until finally they settled
and then sat quietly for awhile
I let Rosie in the house and went out onto the driveway
this great assemblage of crows is not
a Hitchcock sort of thing
I even feel some sort of affinity
realizing that there is a bird brain somewhere in the depths
the car was gone
suddenly they all yelled at once
it was so loud, had to be every last one of them
an unbelievable racket
over as quickly as it had begun
how did they manage that?
all together, all at once, for as far as the eye could see?
it was like the Blue Angels flying in tight formation
except the Angels have radios, radar, computers to synchronize
and then
just as suddenly
they all took to the air
all of them everywhere at once
a black cloud rising, vacating all the streets and yards
then landing back onto rooftops and trees
including, of course
our maple tree
I wonder if Rosie would believe it
even if I could explain to her what just happened
ANTHROPROPHECY
leaves fall
naked trees mark the days
heart rhythms pulse through Obon, Christmas, Easter
ignored by atomic clocks that do not dance with joy
cymbals clash
before a computation of yesterday's lunch
today's breakfast appears ahead of time
throwing over traces of logic
power lines smoking in a hurricane
newscasters form a breadline outside the Weather Channel
blue nippled psychopaths toss confetti from office towers
the whole thing would be funny
if not true
but of course in the comfort of our homes
such a thing could not be
electric blue lightning flashes
birds scatter
trees are truly naked now
all the stuff we counted on is washed ashore, useless
a pile of debris
full attention is a narrow window
given the usual circumstances
which now rival an Ouija board
remember Monopoly?
the little houses which became hotels
only to be bankrupted by a coalition of railroads and power companies?
so cool
Bam!
the window slams shut
blue nipples cheer
leaves fall
naked trees
atomic clocks dancing
write "subscribe" or "unsubscribe" in the subject line of an email to: theroot_us@yahoo.com
The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_