Tired of hunger
tired of emptiness
late February winter snow--
crow claws locked in
on my condo balcony
steel railings.
Their desperate eyes
focus in on my green eye
sockets--
their search begins,
I go to bed, no ruffled feathers showing--
their imaginary dreams of green--
black wings fly flapping--
the hunt, scavengers, over barren fields--
shadows in the way
now late August
summer sun
bright yellow
turning orange--
hard corn.