Betty Branch catalog (6-21-23)) - Flipbook - Page 36
KING OF THE CROWS
THIS MORNING, gloriously alone
quiet, still, silver sun on patio
I lay down to peace and
THE RAUCOUS SOUND OF CROWS
NOT IN THE MEADOW, NOT IN THE FRONT YARD
BUT IN SANCTITY OF MY FENCED
LOCKED SUNLIT TERRACE.
ENRAGED, I WENT FOR THE GUN
THERE’S AN AWESOME DIN
IN THE MEADOW. . .
THE CROWS ARE MOURNING
THEIR KING.
THEIR BULLET CRIES LODGE
IN MY HEAD.
I KNEW ALL ALONG THAT
PREJUDICE WAS LICENSE TO KILL.
I KNEW IT WHEN I EXPLAINED
TO BILL & TOM
WHY I NEEDED A GUN
TO SHOOT CROWS.
I KNEW IT THE FIRST TIME I
RAISED THE GUN FROM THE
KITCHEN WINDOW AND BONNY
WAS SITTING IN THE DINING ROOM
(THAT TIME — BECAUSE SHE WAS
THERE — I COULD NOT PULL
THE TRIGGER.)
THE SLAMMING DOOR DISLODGED
THE CROWS FROM BACK TO FRONT
AND I IN HOT PURSUIT.
Down the yard and out of range
they flew
stopped.
BLACK — UGLY — UNGAINLY ANTAGONISTS
ON THE FRONT SLOPE.
Into the car, gun & I
Down the drive for better
aim & FIRE!
THE BIG BLACK CROW
FLEW UP THEN FALTERED AND
FELL BACK.
I AIMED & FIRED AGAIN
THE PELLETS HIT THE STIFF
BLACK FEATHERS — ABSORBED, OR
FELL AWAY.
THE CROW HALF HOPPED
HALF DRAGGED HIMSELF DOWN
THE HILL . . . ME FIRING & HEARING
THAT DULL DRY FEATHER THUD
of pellet still the crow
would not fall.
THERE WAS NO SOUND IN THE
MEADOW AND NO WAY FOR ME
TO FINISH WHAT I’D BEGUN.
BUT THE GUN WAS THERE
A TARGET TOO
WE HAD
SPORTED A BIT FROM THE
LONG BENCH ON THE FRONT PORCH AT DUSK —
TO SEE WHO COULD HIT THE BULLSEYE. THE GUN
WAS NOT THE GREATEST — NOR
WE AS MARKSMEN — NO ONE
SCORED HIGH EXCEPT BY ACCIDENT
WE PRETTY MUCH AGREED.
Bill carried the gun
in his car a few times to the
mailbox and back or out on
Sunday morning to 6:30
Bible Study, but he didn’t
kill any crow.
Betty Branch, 1986
34
