s a d 

downtown there is nothing
            but grey sky                & grey cement 

& women wearing grey
            scarves & pea coats                &

the smell of crow-shit
            everywhere      for we are in a dark month

in which there are many months
            huddled           like nesting dolls

& the crows & their shit
            are inescapable            dropping

through the night sky
            like stones                   & dropping through

the day sky
            like stones       too                  troubling

the slick branches & making
            the sidewalk smell                   like the sea

but at least
            i think              as i walk home

the crows & their shit
            will leave some day                at least

we know they will someday
            die                   & when a grey-haired man passes me

he nods his grey head
            & the days keep growing      

shorter             & there is no end
                                                            in sight