Crow, past my window,
where do you fly to on this
beautiful morning?
Let us brew some mid-
day coffee and nightly tea.
Bring me to your nest
and hear the early
peepers sing with your cousins.
Resolution falls
in spring, after the
sum of winter rests limply
in your black talons.
Tell me where to fly.
I will save the warmth and keep
my window open
for you to come perch.
I will lure in the sun and
be the messenger
dove of love long gone.
I will wait for you to come
home, cawing my name.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Writing Contest.
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