Today, against greenest June
fields I watched a red-winged
blackbird chase a crow then
retreat to safer branches.
At some distance, it appeared
the crow had something in its beak
and I wondered what offense
had been levied to warrant such
defense, and whether the blackbird sang
now in victory or mourning.
You’d later learn, sympathies
were due to the crow, in this instance
an innocent traveler.
caroline ridgway 