the crow
on the side
of the grimy
northeast portland curbside
he carries a scrap
of some pale,
nutritionless carbohydrate
in his beak,
talons deep
in a greasy puddle
on a strip
of swampy eroded grass
between the asphalt curb
and the sidewalk
he shifts his weight in twitchy little jumps,
ticking his head back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
as low growls
of engines idling
at the red light
shake the ground
with thunderous vibrations
reverberating through his every vertebrae
suddenly
he drops his snack!
he pecks at the ground
unable to snag his little bread
as it dissolves
into the muddy pool below
as his confusion sets in
the light turns green
and the trail of engines roar to life
before he can finish flinching
a dilapidated early 2 thousands gas guzzler  hacks
an enormous cloud of exhaust
in his face
sending him reeling  
jump stepping backwards in agitation
desperation for air
rearing his head
in twitchy wreaths
as we drive by
and tears pool
in my eyes
as the muddy puddle
at that little crows feet.