Life With Horace

poetry & essays

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a haiku for ravens

thuggish calls in flight
swift and dangerous patrols
small creatures tremble

we have ravens here, not crows. they rumble through, sweeping over the arm of Monadnock, always on the lookout. our feeders are sheltered in the lea of lilacs, canopied by a long suffering apple tree. when the ravens come, our small birds and chipmunks hesitate but do not run.