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Raven, black on a mushrooming white cloud Engaged upon its own mischievous thoughtsCronking some message or belief out loud;The bird king paid me how much notice? Nought!
Fidgeting disquiet above me came lowMerging from far-sighted soliloquy,Dragging my attention from the great crow,Ruminating atop its lonesome tree.
Below my oak, now, life cascaded downUpon me like drops of honeyed spring rainFrom all the life that seethed about a crown;Of birds, and bugs, and some I cannot name.
Dragged from watching one large demanding birdTo quicksilver types and invertebrates:These two taxa can never be comparedBut, wait, see, how Nature the two conflates.
© RM MeyerWinswell Water, May 31st 2021