the ravens arrive 7:35 7:40 am
perch on signs and fences
to watch us finish our dog walks
before hurrying off in cars
they hope to reap the spoils
of running late for work
tires tearing down the road
faster than little feet can dodge
sometimes it’s a breakfast of sausage
sometimes a nice meatloaf
occasionally something bone-in
served warm and blood-rare
on a platter of blacktop
always a good place to meet
family and friends
gossip and dine
in a nice social setting
of course there’s always
that greedy uncle
who just has to grab
more than his fair share
and yes they’ll talk about him
when they get home
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