You can look it up!  There are lots of superstitions about crows.  AND isn't that such an interesting collective noun?

© 2021 Steven E. Cutts  
a Studio C recording, 2021


A murder of crows in the middle of the day 

high up in the branches jabbering away 

like bullies on a corner casu’ly throwing shade, 

snickering and cocky, completely unafraid. 

But, here I am presuming that their noise is ridicule; 

perhaps they’re being gentlemen instead of being cruel. 

A murder of crows strutting ‘cross the yard 

swaggering as they patrol their private boulevard. 

Muscular but streamlined with an iridescent sheen 

showing off a silhouette that’s lean . . . but is it mean? 

There’s no deadly dagger that is hidden ‘neath their wing; 

assassination’s never been their thing. 

It is best to see a murder than just a single crow; 

what one bird alone portends you may not want to know, 

while two or more together will bring fortune to your door. 

I’m telling you: be sure you wish for more when counting crows. 

One crow sorrow; two crows mirth; 

three foretells a wedding; and four might mean a birth. 

Four-and-twenty blackbirds got baked into a pie; 

I’m not sure what sort of luck that dish would signify. 

A murder of crows sorting through the trash, 

scavengers extraordinaire, dying for a snack 

leaving no small mess behind; you’d think they’re being rude, 

but maybe these birds demonstrate a better use of food 

‘cause they can make a killing from all we toss aside. 

They’re crowing about the morsels they have spied.