Crows come every year to eat
walnuts at the end of our driveway.
Some mornings, they mingle

with squirrels sharing a common purpose
munching beneath the trees before sun
reaches its peak, dew still clinging

to weeds in cascading jewels,
an occasional caw or chitter to dispute
over territory, eventually ending

with whooshing wings and high tails,
peace scattered into the trees and sky.