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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #1377455
What would it be like to talk to a crow?
A crow as black as coal or jet
Once whispered in my ear
Crow-language words I thought I'd lost
Crow sounds I thrilled to hear.

What is your purpose in these my lands?
This peak's my life's abode
You've passed below with no glance up
Until now, said the crow.

But wait, cried I, as he flew up
Into a thermal gyre
Before I paid you little heed
But I was occupied!

Twas then I ceased to understand
The words I ached to find
Except the last ones as he rose
We'll talk again in time.

And as I drifted down the hill
Black wings whirled through my mind
To hidden places, where I knew
We'd talk again in time.
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