Above the sleeping birch
and beech, oak and pines
circle the dark forms of
a clatter of crows
busily reclaiming their
proprietary rights to
the sky below the
silver-grey of snow-laden
clouds, the roosting rights
to steepled firs and spruce,
the carrion-devouring rights
of the forest floor, and
none there are to contest the
ravenous ravening claimants.
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