As I indicated last week, I have been walking a bunch over the last few weeks, mostly just me and Luna, and I "entertain" myself when walking alone by making up lyrics to whatever the three crow brothers happen to be doing. Yes! The three crow brothers are real! For two years now, I have noticed the same three crows around the fairgrounds and city park area. I assume they are the same three. Only Mother Crow need know the difference.
Anyhow, I have been walking a lot alone and making up lyrics to whatever the crow brothers are doing when I first see them each day. Last week, they had disappeared (In "real time," that is actually about two and half weeks ago.) Therefore, in the last blog, they were missing. I hadn't seen them in four or five days at that point. Then, one morning, they returned. Here is the ditty that I made up that day. ENJOY!
The Three Crow Brothers Return
I found the three crow brothers.
My spirit is renewed,
But their feathers are ruffled
As if there’s been a feud.
One is slinking in the sedge,
One’s up in livestock row,
One’s sittin’ in the rodeo seats
As if to watch a show.
And all of them are silent
And hardly stir a wing
And if I holler out to them,
My words don’t mean a thing.
I wonder what can make three crows
Get mad enough to fight,
For they have shared most every meal
Right down to the last bite.
I’ve watched them fight a big ol’ hawk
Because they had each other,
But they have also fled from jays
Much smaller than their brother.
I guess I should not worry.
Their fight’s not mine to know.
I’m sure each brother’s sorry,
‘Least as sorry as a crow.
Well, the next day, the three crow brothers were back up to their usual business. I guess that at least two of them had patched up their differences. Here's what we thought about that day.
Eating Crow
There’s them three crow brothers.
Two’re perchin’ on a knot.
The other’s peckin’ at some fur.
I can’t see what he’s got.
They’re watchin’ me suspicious
As if I had a gun
And I’m the type of feller
Who’d shoot a crow for fun.
Fact is I’ve never hunted crow
But I have eaten lots.
Now, you can fry it up it pans
Or boil it in pots,
But it is always bitter
And usually causes gas.
I think with all the crow I’ve et.
I’ll let these three crows pass.
The brothers, though, they follow me
As if I’ve more to tell
About this act of eatin’ crow.
Well, they can go to Hell!
For the third crow brother lyric this week, we have a rather upsetting crow brother poem. When I arrived at the fairgrounds for the morning walk, I quickly noticed a huge gathering of buzzards on something that was lying at the edge of the road on the other side of the rodeo arena. When Luna and I got over there, chasing all the birds off in the process, we saw that someone had shot a young doe. They had just shot it. They didn't cut any meat off the I could tell. Someone, I assume the shooter, had driven up next to it to look it over. I could tell this from the tire tracks in the wet mud. After Luna and I walked on the buzzards, crows, and hawks went back to tearing at the carcass. I guess someone had provided them with an ample holiday meal, but what a waste! Anyhow, here is the poem. ENJOY if you can, but also feel free to get ANGRY along with me.
Feed Him to the Crows
I see them three crow brothers,
Unless my vision warps,
With two hawks and four buzzards
A feastin’ on a corpse.
It is an odd assembly,
This carrion-lovin’ crew.
Hawks prefer to kill their food
Not like the brothers do.
They like to find their sustenance
Layin’ quietly at rest
While red tails fly their wrigglin’ meals
A squealin’ to their nest.
But some man killed this whitetail deer.
I could not tell you why.
It’s small, stippled, and hornless
To any seeing eye.
Yes, murder’s easy to a man
When his hands hold a gun,
And killing helpless animals
Seems like such sportin’ fun.
If I ever cross this wastrel,
Slayer of yearling does,
I’ll stake his dumb ass to her corpse
And feed him to the crows.
Finally, Yes! Sadly, we are at the end of the yearlong Poem-a-Week cycle. I actually have half or more than the 52 that would make up a year of weeks. It is now time for me to start revising the poems and putting them in a book. Please take the time to read back through the poems for the last year and help me come up with a name.
I'll tell you what. I will name the book whatever the first person says the name of the book should be as long as it will fit neatly on the cover. You read that? YOU GET TO NAME THE BOOK! BE THE FIRST TO EMAIL YOUR SUGGESTION, AND YOUR TITLE WILL BE THE TITLE! You don't get many offers like that. My email is mbt1966@yahoo.com
Since I am done with Poem-a-Week, I don't know what I will be blogging about next week. Any suggestions?
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