The deaf crow

We raised our kid eyes to the leaf spaces
To glimpse its brownness in a sky of trees
Tracing its presence to staccato mating calls.
Its brown body seemed moving like leaves
In the morning wind, touched by sun glints.
All was soft brown music that froze tree time
Setting our boy time free, from home clocks.

A morning eight of clock, stood obliterated
By the deaf bird , with a song that stretched
Luxuriously on our bodies, no schools barred.
Its reddish little discs of eyes glowered at us
Down to the earth where we stood on knees
Calling down in fingers that pretended to fly.
Actually we were trying to test how deaf it was.

(The crow pheasant is a fascinating brown beauty of the crow species, called jemudu kaki the Deaf Crow in Telugu)

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