1. My heart a pendulum—rocking crow love to crow hate—then back again—these large, dark Einsteins—bullying everyone from Carolina Chickadees to Red-Bellied Woodpeckers—despots of my yard—they guard and hoard the suet block, like a hockey goalie fronting the net.
2. Darwin said, “I get it, aggression is good—fight for survival and all that—pass on those traits” although it took Watson and Crick to figure out the trick— with a side of Mendel’s peas—back to the main path—crows.
3. The corners of my mouth turn upwards in admiration—then arc downwards—biological referee raising the head crow’s left wing in victory—eleven species now defeated in our yard.
4. Another meaningful friendship lost?—crows have great memories and I’ve shooed them repeatedly—my picture tacked onto the murder’s “unwanted” bulletin board—beware of the mean dude on Highland Avenue—yes, social transmission of knowledge—it’s a fact—they remember faces, and their parents—solve a puzzle, no problem—even tool use—much to respect.
5. I can do a great caw, and if unseen, lure them close for a corvid—“who’s the new bird”—but at first sight—I’m marked as avian fraud not friend.
6. Can amends be made—more peanuts on the porch?
This poem first appeared in Medusa’s Kitchen (2023).
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Gary Grossman is Professor Emeritus, University of Georgia, and an author of 150+ scientific articles that have been cited over 9800 times. His work appears in 60+ literary reviews and has been nominated for Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions and the Pushcart Prize. Gary’s poetry books, Lyrical Years (Kelsay Press, 2023), What I Meant to Say Was (Impspired Press, 2023) and the graphic memoir My Life in Fish (2023) are available from Amazon.
