Flying Mysteries
Soaring in the air, a murder of crows goes by.
Calling ahead, crows are truly sly.
Leaving behind only riddles and rhymes
Sneaking away, haunting bedtimes.
Crows rhyme and reason,
Change with the season.
Crows are such a mystery,
But that is crows history.
Copyright © Serenity Nightingale | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment