A New Day

Your friends, the crows,

Are, as usual,

Punctuating the early morning silence

With their conversation of croaks and caws-

Some close by

And others deeper in the woods,

Echoing.

At first there is a gaggle of a half dozen,

But one by one

They move on until there is one lone cackle

And eventually that one departs,

Leaving the woods quiet

Until the Robin steps in

threading the dawn

With its happy song

And from the no self

that holds the world

Arises a thank you

For this new day.