Murder of Crows

There was one, on the telephone wire, against the morning sky, when you looked up. There were twelve more when you looked back.

Four black enamel and alloy crows keep their quiet vigil along a 16" zinc alloy chain, each adorned with moons and stars. A single deep red glass teardrop hangs beneath them, the only colour in an otherwise cold procession.

They are patient, always waiting. You should ask yourself: for what?