A Bestiary


Rainy day walks.
I wear a large, dark blue/black, hooded poncho.

Within a block of my house a crow caws.
Few minutes pass and it is joined by others.
Soon after,
a murder of crows are swooping above cawing madly. 
The cacophony will persist unceasingly until the rain stops 
and I remove the poncho. Off, the crows disperse.

I wonder - am I feared predator 
or a long lost ancestor miraculously returned after sixty million years?