Wednesday, April 06, 2016

A poem

I want to be a crow
And caw caw caw my way
Across the sky.
Not caring
About what anyone thought
While I ate roadkill or garbage.
Not worrying about
How loud I was,
Not ever.
Everyday would be a party.
Doing as I pleased,
Surrounded by family and friends.

The words just came to me, almost as a complete thought as I sat and listened to the crows on my street. I know they're building a nest, although I haven't figured out exactly which tree. The crows speak to me often. Some people fear them, think they are a harbinger of deaths, but I trust them.

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