On the aerial sits a Mother Rook
buffetted by the wind
high up on the rooftops
the mouse she killed
is skinned
its entrails strewn
haphazardly, on the mossy grey
and being dried by sunlight
in the soft light of the day

The view across
Berkhamsted
across the valley wide
sees gardens along
Meadow Road
many cut with pride
one house sees
the lilac watch
it dance and sway
and snuggle up to heady
blooms of creamy
dreamy May


Master Rook proceeds
to sample
some of her air dried
mouse
clearly sweeter than
rodents, running
through the house
this the finest delicacy
that rooks can ever eat
And this organic specimen
is now beside his feet

Among the orange
chimney pots
clad in sooty dust
its where a male rook
came to call
and solemnly did thrust
his way for all
upon the lady
of course, she clad in black
it seems this wayward creature
wants to share her sack

to sample that dried rodent
and taste the maggots red
to fertilize the coming brood
a reward for those well fed
he sat with her accepting
her wrath and ugly stares
and gradually she grew
to love him
sampling his wares
together
on the roof tops
on the tiles of grey
several baby rooklings
no need for
DNA