Sir Crow

Whenever the crow from who knows,

Starts to caw and stick his nose,

In all of thee others business.

 

It takes a while for me to digress,

What I had just seen when he pulls a feather from his breast,

For the little chicks that then reside,

In his nest,

Atop the tree

Of hollowcrest.

 

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741