Crow Song

Out in the early spring air
Was the pitchy song of the birds.
A song from somewhere
In the high skies where
Only electric poles
could observe
As they composed
A tune so timeless,
So beautiful and yet so blue.
It broke the silence
Of the vast and quiet green.

The leopard stopped hunting
And wished her prey the best.
Then turned and started running
Towards the cubs left in her nest. 
The panther stopped lurking
And quietly went away.
The ignorant pig left lurching
Until he met his fate.
The rats stopped scratching
And the wolves stayed in bed.
The ants stopped marching
And the doe raised its head,
For in the dancing leaves
Up overhead
The crows sang of death.