I like crows
I like what they say
I like the stories they tell
I tucked them away in the folds
between the pages of a scrapbook
somewhere
Remember the time I tore off my head?
I said
and replaced with a gourd?
That’s nothing, the sinister bird cackled
I recall one night when the stars shone so bright
I just had to gather some for my nest
I flew all night long but could never get near
and I have been screeching about it ever since
I like crows
I like what they do
I like the way they hang about
I like the stories they tell
Like those nights when the Moon said Hello
and all the spiders played tag with my toe
and the crows took pictures of the creepy event
and posted them on the fence
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