Pandemic Hits the Park
By Judith Chumlea-Cohan, Coastal Dunes Branch
Even the crows are cranky.
Squawking and cawking across the park
Like two sides of a family argument
Across the dining table.
I swear, they are social distancing.
Usually bundled around one or another,
Whoever has food in its beak.
Speak of beaks, there are no masks.
How to mask a beak?
Nope, they’re spread out,
Only two to a green:
Only one at a tee.
Squawking, cawking.
Whoops…they’ve come to blows.
Social distance be damned.
Two of them bang it out
On the ninth green.
Others choose sides, I swear,
Just like a bar fight in a
B western movie show.
I grab the binoculars.
Accused of spying on the neighbors.
Boring .
No, I swear, it’s this congregation of crows.
These clans of crows, the collaborations
The choruses and choirs, cacophonies,
Commissions, committees, cooperative, collectives
Of squawking cawking crows,
Murderous or not,
That fuels my fascination.
Pure parodies, I swear,
Of the human condition.
Or is it the other way around?
“Pandemic Hits the Park” appeared in the April 2022
Sifting through the Grains of Sand,
newsletter of the Coastal Dunes Branch.