Any day you can’t see

the crow which has a

notable white stripe over

the protruded beak and

a queer round head, two

or three or a dense bunch

of hair brushing the breeze

of the late cloudy noon. Yes,

a late cloudy noon or early

summer morn or autumnal

eve it comes and sit on the

grill of my ‘lone balcony. It

never caws. Only bask in

the breeze closing its eye.

Bits of biscuits or bread or

rice mixed with curry, when

offered, it look at first like it’s

trying to read my mind, then

hop on the grill for few turns,

looking a’one is there or not,

‘fore it start having the offering

and then fly away after knocking

the grill with its beak. You can’t see

the crow any day (you want).

#A’one is anyone

A-Z Challenge Day#1: A for Animal (Crow)

National Poem Write Month Day #1: Kay-Ryan-esque Poem (Please comment on my attempt)

Stream of Consciousness Saturday (04/01/2017): Any


39 responses to “Crow”

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