Crows

These birds are falling into air
And they cloud my vision everywhere
They're circling me but I don't care
I love them anyway

They are crows; their blackened wings
Beat furiously as they fly in rings
I listen now, as each one sings
Because I love them so

They gather outside my window here
Each crying a blackened tear
And all but I have reason to fear
The love of these black crows

For they are mine; they came to me
In night so black, and through the trees
Their calls echoed silently
To bring their love to me

for them I care, both day and night
Aiding them in lovely flight
And nothing ever felt so right
To love these crows so dear

Messengers of Death they are
But they have sorrows too; so far
I've never seen a crow with out a tear within its eye

Elizabeth Haase