They langour <br />Among the powered lines <br />Anticipating <br />Anxiously <br />Their next meal <br /> <br />Roadkill <br />The captain, some three odd pounds <br />With a butcher blade beak and <br />Onyx feathers <br />Caws and bellows his commands <br />Swoops <br /> <br />First dibs on a crushed rabbit <br />Fills his belly <br />Caws twice again <br />Satisfied <br /> <br />Leftovers are for his troops <br />The captain returns to his post <br />Surveys the asphalt <br />For his platoons next meal<br /><br />Matt Mondschein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/counting-crows/
