Saturday, February 9, 2013

Who's To Say

Black and big like a crow


But standing upright and tall

A tuft of feathers form a peak on its head

A meowing sound like no other

It holds its spot on a broad, bare limb

No mind it pays to me or the dogs

It makes no move but to sing its song

A tingle would run down my spine

Were it a different bird

But who’s to say what its message was.

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