...Two Crow

Two crows sit upon the tips of trees

They call to the world below

Students pass below

Oblivious, and uncaring

As if they don't exist

But they see all

Unlike like the Chickadees

Who sing to each other

A sign of the coming season

Yet the wind still blows,

Harsh and cold

Carrying omens,

Like the birds

"Listen," they say

Something is coming