"ARBORETUM SKY"

Again this afternoon, a disc of crows
circles the woods. They seem a hovering
roulette wheel, coming up black,
coming up
winter every time in the game
of hot or cold.
In this simple equation, if they are here
by thousands, it is winter, bare trees
glorious with crows. There's a shock value
to absolute black against opalescent sky
their voices shouting us down.
Call it a rookery or canopy of wings.

- Live actual poetry as seen on a live actual Metro bus.