“The Crows Cackle When They See the Big Gun” by Savannah Sipple

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They mock me, I swear, with their
caw, caw, caw coming from the tree-line
at field’s edge. I know they watch and wait
until I’m well inside, distracted by a book or cooking
June apples. They linger in leaves until right when
the apple butter starts to pop before they sneak
to the garden’s edge. Do they know it’s legal to kill
them if they’re in the act of depredation, or do they
just think it’s funny to watch me try?

-Savannah Sipple

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