Crows

A poem

Two Crows in mid flight against a white sky
James Warwick/Getty
Just so that each stark,
Spiked twig,
May be even more fierce
With significance,
There are these birds
As further harbingers
Of the coming wintry reduction
To sign and enigma:
The absolutely necessary
Way in which they shook snow
Out of their wings,
And then remained, inexplicably
Thus, wings half-open,
Making two large algebraic x’s
As if for emphasis,
Or in the mockery of . . .