Do you know how to love a crow?
I'm not quite sure I truly know.
Would it be good enough to see
And name him, resting in my tree?
Let fall the way I’ve used his name,
“Oh, crows!”( They’re always first to blame
When corn is snatched from furrowed fields
Diminishing the harvest’s yields.)
And let the name be just the word
That helps me place this jet black bird?
Is this the way to love a crow?
To offer space? Let birdness show?
To notice how he swoops and swirls,
Is pestered by those silly squirrels?
Is this the way to love a crow?
Is this enough? I'd like to know.