Mob Rule

By John I. Blair

The barking crows swarm
Like starving dogs
Around a damaged hare;
Storming the pine
They dare to match
Flock power
Against tearing beak
And clutching claw.

Evidently owls
Fear noisy mobs,
For the feathered death
Flaps grudgingly away,
Consumed no doubt
With irate plans
To dine on crow
Some other day.

©2003 John I. Blair