They’re terrible birds,says my granddad, an old farmer.Eating the crops, making a mess.We always used to shoot themwhen I was a boy. I watch for them,to see them glide and dip and swoop.Their wings gleam in sunshine like obsidian.Sometimes they fly in formation, andI think they’re playing. They’re cruel birds,my songbird-loving mother says.Eating other birds’ […]
