Wind-Driven Crows

Ferocious March winds have pervaded
the otherwise-tempered yet untamed
entry of an early spring. Tempestuous
bitter winds have mediated between
spring and winter that argument of
nature's seasonal turnover, as though
settling an incorrigible conflict.

In the process, unsettling small
furry tree-dwellers, hurtling nests,
boughs, branches and twigs, helter-skelter
burdening the ground with a wildly
untidy flurry of offcast detritus,
amazed at their new status, from
quick to the newly-departed.

As though in fierce competition with
those high and mighty gusts, a rabble-
rousing gathering blackens the sky.
Winging their dark, murderous presence
while other creatures cringe at their
rude, raucous presence, in this exchange
of virulent insults to the usual calm
and peace prevailing in the atmosphere.