black crow reflection

    on a diagonal flightpath

        and the deep black river

             flows through my window pane

little chunky mini icebergs

racing to their melting

down that deep black river drain

now black crow has landed

hoppin’ funny in the snow

a garbage morsel in his beak

he hops to the river’s icy edge

to pick at the meal

do little crow chicks squawk in a nest

for regurgitated remnants?

black blur take-off!

            the new flightplan is beyond my view

so why does that chickadee make a whistle sound

that mournful and a-haunting?

the big naked tree steps to my glass partition

to tap it’s opinion in Morse code

“She wants the spring,” it says to me 

and

—-a two duck train speeds down black river

right down the pipe, baby!—-

it’s a pane refrain

’cause the crow is back

black beside black river

he looks up at me and caws

behind my glass

I shiver