Crows in Winter

Here’s a meeting
of morticians in our trees.
They agree in klaxon voices:
things are looking good.
The snowfields signify
a landscape of clean skulls,
Seas of Tranquility
Throughout the neighborhood.
. . .
They foresee expansion of graveyards,
they talk real estate.
Cras, they say,
repeating a rumor
among the whitened branches.
. . .
Anthony Hecht