What do these crows say?
Certainly, they’re not wasting
their voice. Perched on the
branches of the bay tree,
they don’t fly in the sizzling
sunlight. Long, short, swift,
slow, vibrant, weak…Variations
in the length and the size of
their cry affirm their cawing
is not meaningless. How can
they be close-mouthed about
the things...
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