A Caw from the Blue
The caw of the crow,
Once harsh and loud
Filled the skies when they
Gathered in a crowd.
For fifty years
Their voices not heard
Untill one lone caw
Returned out of the blue.
It's sounds once grating,
Now sweet and dear,
A melody of memories
I hold dear.
He flew away cawing.
Then I pondered,
"Where he lives,
from where he came."
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