The Ravens
Dance
Birds of a feather flock together.
People of common tastes congregate.
Here in the trees in the cold and the breeze.
I sit still and prognosticate.
The fees for living in trees
Needs careful examination
Is there an ombudsperson for birds?
More hope for Raven’s salvation.
I’ve flown here and there and know it’s not fair.
That there’s avian discrimination
We live in a place where the human race
is blackbird exploitation
I flew out west to have a rest.
Take a break and a holiday.
It was a test of endurance.
There’s something I want to say.
You’ve heard me caw, but there is more.
To me then, my mournful sound.
I scavenge for breakfast, dinner, and tea.
On the wet, dirty, and dangerous ground.
I have an extrasensory perception.
And can sense a semi or car from afar.
Then I do the Raven’s dance.
I know where the missiles are.
Birds of a feather flock together.
A crow knows he is different.
We’re hard to tell apart, you know.
We keep our eyes fixed on the government.
©
David Rudder
2022
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