The crow can’t sing, it clicks

Down the blooms fell, a different kind of fall. We did the spatchcock chicken again with the New Orleans rub and the leftover corn and asparagus. It was one of the best days I had at my new job, and on my walk I was proud of myself for trying something new, for doing it well. Through the arc of fear and self-doubt, it felt like I was getting off the ride exhilarated, a bit younger feeling too.

Smashed fries on the road
a treasure for some, the crow:
who props the paper bag
with her beak and carries
it to her nest,
a crow-smile,
and good way
to start my day.


Photo by Laitche, Wiki Commons: Jungle crow, Tennōji Park, Osaka

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in Memoir, musings, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to The crow can’t sing, it clicks

  1. The crow is so frequently seen in India, that noone cares to photogaph it

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Through the arc of fear and self-doubt, it felt like I was getting off the ride exhilarated…” that’s a keeper, and really like the poem.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I had to Google spatchcock chicken. Do you know how to de-bone and everything?

    Like

    • pinklightsabre says:

      Dude, like you (I think) I am a total freaking wimp when it comes to butchering meat. Is that a fair comment for you too? I have the butcher take the back out. Too much like biology class for me. But man you should do it! Grill it under a couple bricks like the Eye-talians do! Look it up! Brine it and then grill it under something heavy, bricks, or hubcaps, whatever you have handy laying around the garage.

      Like

      • Here’s the not-funny O. Henry twist. My Da was a butcher. But since he refused to acknowledge my very existence, I never learned how to cut meat. You’d think he’d at LEAST teach me how to carve a turkey but, no.

        Liked by 1 person

      • pinklightsabre says:

        Oh my god. Not funny. Not cool. What the heck Dad. Butchers kind of intrigue and frighten me, guys good with knives and parts.

        Like

  4. Chicken and chips. Very tasty.

    Liked by 1 person

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