Crows are my friends
Nothing I like better than to go through
Life surrounded by glossy black crows
Perched on my shoulders, me
Looking like Saint Francis
Crow lady, people say
Now I know crows are smart
Maybe smarter than me
All linked together like they are
It’s no wonder that farmers call on
Jezum Crow when they swear.
I see crows walking on snow covered fields
In between stubbles of corn stalks
Full of self-importance.
Little messiahs who come
When I whistle.