As the Crow Flies – Thirty Poems in Thirty Days #12

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As the Crow Flies

Fuck the crow
I defiantly told the old man
His brow wrinkled
With shock
But a certain delight
In his pupil

The crow flies his line
Because he knows nothing else
Much to the crow’s fancy
Would it be
To fly a different path
With more scenery

I am no crow
Nor will I fly as it does
For I have seen the gallantry of the hawk
I have seen the peacefulness of the dove
I am no crow
Straight paths are not for me

To fly
To walk
To crawl
Or to run

I travel paths that do not exist
Take journeys which none have
Taken before
That is my flight

I thank the crow for all his efforts
That which he was offered me
The comforts of home
The supports of reliability

But the crow’s path is not mine
Nor shall it ever be

So fuck the crow I say
I shall fly free


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