I hear the rasping caw of the mortuary bird
alone at the top of a single skeletal tree
black feathered reaper scavenger and restorer
observer for signs of frailty failure and futility

calling to others announcing death as imminent
there at the carrion end of the cycle of life
crow presence at death's arrival is prescient 
beak and claw ready to tear and cut like a knife 

the murderous flock train beady eyes on their prey
awaiting the moment they can safely descend
they utter hexes for stillness at the meat of the day
aware their role is to share in marking the end