Above in contentious debate,
I hear a murder of crows
arguing avian aesthetics
with guttural croaks and clacks.
As they burst from the treetops,
I detect panic in their shrieking
and assume they sensed my presence.
With a smug smirk I continue
until a little later, some distance
away, the same cacophony erupts,
snuffing my reverie.
Then the wind shakes the dew
from the leaves so it can feel
what it’s like to rain.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
Love both the photo and the poem, Bart! 💙
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Thank you, Cheryl. The photo is a free stock image from Pexels (I think) but the poem is a minor revision to an old one I’ve been submitting around with no takers.
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Maybe next time is the charm! 🌈
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Probably no more next time for this one. Once a poem appears here, most places consider it published. (It’ll probably get more readers here anyway.)
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Vivid sounds throughout and the ending is stunning with thought-provoking personification. 🌦️
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Thank you, Michele! I must admit I’m still not sure what that last stanza really means…
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I thought about it for a while and although I can’t say exactly, it still resonates, beautifully.
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😍❤️🔥
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Thanks, Rollie!
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They must like you, they’re following you. :) And get this, I’m doing a house sit where I have to feed the crows the homeowner has befriended. What a timely piece! ;)
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That’s so cool! I’ve been spreading seed in my backyard lately and getting several crows as well as lot of other birds and squirrels, but I wouldn’t call them friends yet.
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The more you do, the friendly they become!
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