Large Fierce Mammal

Source: Here!

Our title today is drawn from the oft spoken (and not without more than ample provocation) sage words of my Esteemed Friend James Keating. Their application should be obvious as you read on.

This poem was placed in my head a couple days ago by two Crows acting on behalf of whatever Force of Nature had chosen in the moment to use me as Its scribe.

Point of View

By LFM

On a morn o’erlain by a blue-grey sky,
A large black Crow came flying by,
And as it passed, another flew
From a high fir top in a shower of dew.

Yet as the second took the air,
The first showed not a jot of care,
Even as ’twas passed behind,
And thence above, seemed not to mind.

Now, beak and talons stretched before,
The chasseur, stealthy, lower bore,
First surely set upon its prey
Thence watched it tuck and dive away!

Now glorious combat, wheel and gyre!
By turns beneath, and others higher,
All gleaming beak and flashing claw,
And yet, no feather plucked, I saw.

A passer by observed my gaze
And squinting through the morning’s haze
Now gestured to the wheeling flight
And said, “Those crows are in a fight!”

“I think it sad,” was my reply,
As now the speaker drew my eye,
“Of all the things that dance could mean,
“A fight is what you think you’ve seen.”

“What do you mean?” his protest came,
“What other option would you name?”
I smiling looked back to the fray,
“Foreplay,” ere I walked away.