MORNING CROWS

Morning Crows

Black beaked, black feathered, black eyed crows

Cawed their morning songs

With their blazing black beaks.

While Dawn pierced his pink and orange fingers

Through the morning greyness

My cold goose bumpy legs

Peddled my bike to the pool.

The frigid morning air assaulted my nostrils

Forcing warn gooey fluid

To ooze out of my nose.

Black beaked, black feathered, black eyed crows

Laughed, ”caw, caw,”

Poking fun of the purple swim bag

On my yellow jacketed back.

“No food falls out of that bag,”

They cawed and laughed.
“Silly man rolls down the street

Without singing his song.

That is so wrong

This early in the morning.”

The morning crows followed me

All the way to the university.

They flew over me and discussed my form

While I swam, floated and flew

Through the water.

“He’s pretty in the water

With his golden brown featherless skin

And featherless wings.”

Black beaked, black feathered, black eyed crows cawed.

“Hey you! Down there!

Sing your song to the water spirit.
Sing it loud, so we can hear.

Sing of your flight through the water

Sing of your rolling down the road

Bless us with your song

Before the morning is long gone.