Angela Allen

A group of crows sits on a wire between two buildings against a blue sky

Crows hold grudges.
They memorize your mug
when you play nice,
and make you pay
if you sucker them in.

Crows connect like wires,
caw for lifelong mates,
squawk, and ruthlessly
mock us from on high.

If you want them to leave,
falcons will drive them off.
Crows can be murder
to withstand: Honor them
when they hover nearby.