In twilight’s fading bright
They are second sight
The shimmer is sure
From darkness in sun
Shivers silver blur
If kind
They’re kin
Jackdaw to crow
From air high to low
Their knowledge grows
Sheen of green
Shields blue of night
A raven’s wing
To some means fright
But magic and lore
Protect this bird
None dare shoot them down
For they may be gods
In gilded crowns
First published in The Avocet Weekly #623 NOV 10, 2024