Song of the Crow

                                                            Song of the Crow





One lone crow, perched high up in a tree,

Shakes her feathers, as she caws to me.

Framed by gray sky, her silhouette clear.

Picture of peace, moment to revere.

She takes in sight of new fallen snow

She caws to her mate on branch below.

Her tail feathers quiver with concert

Feather light aria to her mate.

They fly away, one more tree together,

Perdure their song in spite of weather.

Melodious psalm encircles air

One more gift from God, moment so rare.