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.