High in the treetops sits brother crow Caw caw he cries into the bluster Of the north wind bearing down On his flock taking flight Beating ebony winds to escape The chasing gray clouds Bringing cold rain now Soon though it will be sleet Followed by the freezing snow Caw caw he cries into the twilight Come and follow into the horizon Black feathers that are darker Than the moonless night
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Musing & Creating with T.J.S. Sherman 