a huge murder of crows

covered the top most gray branches of the trees i walked under

covering all the trees for 3 blocks down 22nd St

like rustling black leaves against the deep blue night sky

their droppings rained down sounding like rain slapping the icy sidewalk

their caws muffled and desperate

were they huddling together against the cold i wondered

against the cold single digit darkness

their flapping wings their shuffling bodies

blacker than the night sky above

and as i returned back down 22nd St a few hours later

the crows were still there, silent now, unmoving, fast asleep

and who was i going to huddle against tonight