The crows arrive with their babiesas the raspberries form and ripen, and as the chamomile bloomsAnd the choking-gargleof feeding baby crows accompaniesthe bushtits’ peeps,the scrub jay’s shrieks,and a finch scolding Little Sir as he stalksthrough glowing and dappled garden stems, and as he crosses the streetAs Her Majesty ignores him from her sunny spotin theContinue reading “While the Berries are Still Between Brown and Green”
Chris Bevens | pedalpoet 