An insistent—burrup burrup burrup—
the raven cries a warning
and then confirms it twice more.
His sounds echo from the rocks
and he repeats again the fatal call.

Leaving the sentinel tree
with a wind gust
he swoops to another tower
and cries the alarm again.
He warns of impending tragedy.

Corvus corax preens his black cloak
and stares seaward.
He leaves with a gush of displaced air
and flies elsewhere
to give his carrion song.

Clothed in feathers of black satin
with shiny blue sheen
he takes a totem stance.
He sneers at his sinister reputation
and smirks at the superstition.
As a captive, he can croak words.