The Flock

I saw it perched
outside your bedroom window–
just sitting there, searing
its beaded, black eyes
through the pane.
Its slate wings slowy waved
back
and forth
as it crowed over its view.
The utterance of that wicked
sound drew another to its side
and that pair of feathered omens
gave hint that something
as dark as they
was on its way.
Their calls to the others
echoed through the bitter air,
freezing my lungs
and numbing my body–
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t move.
Standing next door
on my porch,
glaring across the yard,
I could do nothing
but watch
as they waited,
patiently,
for the murder to arrive.