Crow Songs
Irritating Cries
The crow’s cawing in anger, frustration
Shrieks of course reprimands at the world around
The black bird its dark nature true displaying
Another irritant, harbinger of cruel fate?
O beloved as this dark skinned poet, his cawing
Is a pain to your manas, in full flight now.
Selfish Comrades
The flight of crows circling low
Seeing the pleasure in their company
Brought together in a communal bond
Was it love, that misunderstood word
Each a hardened self-serving feeder
Sticking together, in numbers their strength
Where is the love in self-service?
By R. Sittamparam
