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Raven, black on a mushrooming white cloud
Engaged upon its own mischievous thoughts
Cronking some message or belief out loud;
The bird king paid me how much notice? Nought!

Fidgeting disquiet above me came low
Merging from far-sighted soliloquy,
Dragging my attention from the great crow,
Ruminating atop its lonesome tree.

Below my oak, now, life cascaded down
Upon me like drops of honeyed spring rain
From all the life that seethed about a crown;
Of birds, and bugs, and some I cannot name.

Dragged from watching one large demanding bird
To quicksilver types and invertebrates:
These two taxa can never be compared
But, wait, see, how Nature the two conflates.

© RM Meyer
Winswell Water, May 31st 2021