Murder of crows

Dilys Rose

Scotland

We’re the best dressed here.
Forget the scruffy starlings
dishevelled thrushes
the gaudy tits and finches –
they’re all a waste of space.

We’re the real class act:
never a feather out of place
our blacks perfectly matched.
Like gangsters, ministers,
we demand respect.

Our quills drink in the light
like ink.