Kinship
Kinship with crows
I’ll miss my gluttonous, russet tailed friend who stuffs his furry cheeks with the peanuts on the porch like a plush little monarch
I’ll miss my flighty starlings who sing their throaty constellations before I perceive the sun break in the morning.
I’ll miss my corvid friends who scream and gawk their gospel, demanding tributes at my window when I’ve lingered too long without them fed.
I’ll miss the jewel blurred dance of the humming birds, like a comets flicker through the hanging flowers.
Oh my friends I’ll miss you dearly.
These will not be the last of tears I’ll shed.
My heart will have an ache where your wild chorus lived.
May the next tenant treat this porch as a palm held open to all your unbridled little hearts.
May they love my red tailed Reggie for all his greedy peanut ways.
May they know the starlings song is a clock that keeps us tender.
May they keep the alter of cracked corn and kinship with the crows.
