Corvids

Scorched trunk and the

Curious corvids

Hopping ahead before

Bursting into flight

And then checking

On a low dusky branch

To gaze then launch again

Steeping before me as I stride 

The trees dying

Or recovering who can know

The green shoots mixed with

Dead wood staggering high

The ants nests crater this litte

Track their traces sketched in sand

To be washed away in the next

Or the rain thereafter ephemera

Part of the bigger performance which

Too will fade and be replaced

Its corvids crooking their head to

Watch listen and wander bemused.