For 1394 Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
I stepped outside, feeling low. There, before me, stood a crow. He cooly looked me up and down as he wore a beaky frown. I wondered, would I lose my blues if I could wear this birdy's shoes? Would his life be more complete, he asked, if he could have my seat? But I wasn't sitting on a seat, and no shoes were on his feet.
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