Walking the Crow

I shall take for a walk
The two-footed crow.
And watch the fast clouds go by,
Ignore the curious stares,
Endure the barking dogs,

The sight disturbs what they know,
About crows.
The crow doesn’t mind,
He’ll peer at you as crows do,
One eye at a time.
If he likes you, he may tell you your fortune,
For you know that he knows.

He’s the crow, after all,
And performed feats of magic,
Like catching the sun,
And keeping the west wind blowing.

I don’t know how long he’ll be here,
And I’m not sure when he arrived.
But now we’re content,
to contemplate the other,
While we decide who is the teacher,
And who must be taught.

Rochelle Randel

If you've any comments on her poem, Rochelle Randel would be pleased to hear from you.