As I walked down the hill this morning

The sound of caws startled a warning

Garbage which'd been littered around

And not picked up, had caused a mound



Of trash quite near the bag upon the pole

And the crows were about to fill up holes

In their stomachs with people's thrown litter

Something which annoys and makes me flitter



About, with paper bag from my pocket in hand

Seeing to all the garbage which lay all over land

Stashing pieces of it in bag at pole and one I carry

For the larger bits which need to disappear in a hurry



And as I saw to the mammoth undertaking in a flash

The two wary birds took to the sky in a hurried dash

And I waved at them with a broad gesture of my arm

Knowing full well, at these times - I lose a little charm



But crows are a nasty bird we can all quite do without

For they dwell far too long on trash strewn all about

And then soon their friends start to fly in to join them

Causing an unruly party which becomes a mob, then



The next thing you know they start attacking animals

For they've gone to next level in a fever pitch not small

And then our pets are attacked and we become enraged

For we could have prevented it all at a very early stage ...



Christopher W. Thomas

8:10am Saturday 12/3/97