(twocrows)

Two crows
are breakfasting
in the oak,
the dominant crow
perched on the higher
branch,
his head in a
perpetual staccato
motion.
The smaller one
rummaging
down low.
And just
like that
they are gone.
As is winter,
this day after
ground hog.
Ground hog says
spring is coming,
but he is wrong,
it is already here.
Just since Sunday’s rain,
the sky a spring hue
and it is shirt sleeve weather.
My winter bear-ness
holds on still,
the spirit wants
to clip the frost bit
branches back,
but the body –
well, it’s a little less
enthusiastic.
But I am thinking
of hollyhock seeds
in pink,
and rows of lavendar.

2/3/99