Poem: There Was A Small Black Bird

There Was A Small Black Bird

a crow, I think, though I am not expert
in the identification of birds,
only that it was dark enough
and not so big
that I thought it likely a raven,
no, I think it was a crow.
It came near to me,
landed on the ground
just there, and I feared
it would fly away
if I turned, but
it did not, even looked at me.
I said hello and thanked it
for coming to visit,
told it I was glad,
that it was welcome.
It looked back at me,
just a moment or so,
and turned again,
turned its back to me
so I saw the light 
shining purple
of the dark cloak
of its feathers.
It walked about,
stepped here and there,
seemed to be searching,
then, a moment later,
looked to the sky
and followed its look,
launching itself.
I was glad it came,
glad it stayed so near,
even for just a moment.
I wonder if it will return.
It would be nice
to have its company again.

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