Dawn flocks

Dawn flocks

I heard a flight of ducks

or geese yammering they intruded

on my dream, sounded like

human voices a human voice

that cried help

I suspect in fact it is

a fox, that sounds like a child

crying close in the borage

Before I was woken by

the huge laugh of a crow so

near I could feel the

dampness of his

black morning feathers, hear

the thwump of his vanishing

wings that brushed my forehead

cold toes

going to the window I can see

in the first sun and the clean light

and still of morning still not

the yelping flock

in truth there are some gulls

they squabble over something over

the shimmering bristling

of grass beneath the yet

unmuddied sky still

fresh from the burning

cool of stars

I look for the fox

There is none

They die down

The many greens reveal themselves