This Particular Crow

In each bird is flight – but in this particular crow

Which she hated – and was peering at through antique binoculars -

Perched itself on her and her neighbor’s fence at precisely 8:30 AM -

Not only would it wake up the whole neighborhood -

But it would take turns pooping on one side or the other -

Today, however, she was fuming and in an inconveniently open bathrobe and slippers,

Ham-fistedly raced into the yard, shaking her newspaper at it -

It stepped a little away, a little more -

Before cawing till she got him on the beak

And startled -

It flew away

Never to be seen again.