a poem in my pocket

“I now claim this city as mine,” triumphs Snow,
chilling stones of old buildings and streets.
“All seasons belong to me,” caws the Crow.

“I’ve staked claim to this city as mine,” warns Snow.
“My brothers and I’ll push you out!” threatens Crow,
from dead tree where plotting crows’ murder meets.

“I will leave this city behind,” murmurs Snow,
dying pack on stone buildings and streets.

NOTES:

A fable fit loosely in triolet form...
and loosely fits Anna's "diction" 

prompt at d'Verse poetics.  

I like the "sound" of 
Caesar's Latin for the title and 
 find"murder" of crows intriguing.  

Also incorporated "brothers" 
idea from earlier prompt.

photos by lynn, Jerusalem 2015