Flocks of autumn crows

feast on scattered corn

in newly stubbled fields.

Greedily they feed

before the onset

of winter scarcities.

 

Wise birds these,

 

resourceful,

 

successful,

 

each maintaining its own personal space

aware that together - -  they are safe,

and that sentinels will rise

to ward off dangers from the skies.

 

Paradoxically we chose to go alone,

 

vulnerable,

 

exposed,

 

false pride our unconsidered reason

to leave our closest friends.

 

We pre-supposed that we'd be glorious,

 

Rule Britania,

 

never slaves,

 

victorious.

 

But now diminished in the global scene,

just an inconspicuous dot

in a hostile sea.

 

No blueprint for our future.

 

Resourceful???

 

Successful???

 

                         No --

 

                                          not us it seems.