Ever notice crows
walk like cow-boys,
toes in, wide stride,
tough guys of the garden?Sparrows scold
from a distant tree – safe
they think. I watch
from the window over
the kitchen sink.I suppose
crows must hatch, wet, needy
and fragile, like other birds,
but now full grown, I half expect
my crow to chew tobacco and spit,
he seems so full of bravado,
compared to prissy little tits.Does size mean power?
A swagger, a loud caw?
Animals seem to think so.SJC
July 18: Cowboy
Filed under Daily Reflections, poetry
agnellusmirror 
Nice! I did a whole investigation into urban animals some years ago around a theatre piece called Biding Time. We focused in the end on crows and foxes and indeed some of the actors working in crows found fabulous walks that they integrated into their humans.
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Some birds that walk rather than hop about, seem to be carrying an umbrella under each arm, but they don’t drop them when they move their wings!
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I was thinking especially of black-headed gulls. We Turnstones are dainty on our feet and can leap incomparably gracefully into the air as one bird.
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Good Evening Friends,
Here is a message from Sister Johanna of Minster Abbey, whose poems we have been reading this week:
I would like to offer a sincere thank you to those who have been so kind as to “Like” the poems that have been posted over the past few days – and to those who have even taken the trouble to write a comment. It is very encouraging to me to learn that someone has been touched by something I have written, and that some of my words have found a home in the minds of others.
Sister Johanna Caton O.S.B.
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