|
|
Trimmings
They've trimmed the tops off trees outside,
Where will the black crows now reside?
Perch upon the remaining stubs up high
To view the cold but clear January sky?
They've trimmed the tops off trees outside,
There's nowhere left for the crows to hide.
Perhaps they'll pepper the park trees left behind
And contemplate why humans are unkind.
Copyright ©
Louise Norduff
|
|