John F. Masare
jfmasare@yahoo.com |
Crow
She stands upon a stone
Picking at an unknown bone
Quite happy on her own.
Then she stares off into space
As though trying to trace
Where dinner might be found
Caught in flight or on the ground?
Fancy in her black and white
Which shimmers in the evening light
Fancy, but not a pretty sight
Something about her isn't right.
The colours are too stark, too bold
The message in her stare is cold
Then too, the greed is very old
None eats crow - so I'm told
She'll pick and choose her prey
Who'll be caught and who'll walk away
And you don't mess with her choice
Once you've heard her unique voice.
Soon she'll prance and then she'll preen
I find the whole dance quite obscene
You see - I know what it must mean
Another victim to pick clean. |
