To the Young Ravens

The young ravens in the nest are nearly grown.
They are dull black with patches of gray and white.
They flex their wing muscles intermittently,
but they know not yet what the wings are for.

Their pink, fish-like mouths prop open,
even in sleep, for mom to shove down
a grub with her beak. Dad watches the nest,
then hops aside when mom returns with food.

Expectant faces point toward the mother,
but there is always one facing the wrong way!
Mom hops over the open beaks to satisfy
the misdirected aperture. These helpless chicks

are blessed with attentive parents, but the young ravens
are a sorry lot, ragged in appearance, feathers
still coming in, and cawing off-key
when they hear the arrival of fluttering wings.

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