Making the Commitment

Perched on the precipice, telephone pole —
The huge black Crow cawed, to connect his goal.
When a Crow’s calling, he thrusts his head out,
Extends his neck, feathers a visual “shout”.
His whole body’s involved in this cawing,
Beak slightly open — this bird’s vibrating.
I think he’s lonely, looking for kinfolk;
Take a chance, roll that dice, go for broke.
When birds are talking they give it their ALL.
I’m running down the Hall; will I trip and fall?

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