Woman broke rule, tore down a crown of crows.
Orchard by fall left apples on litter,
The apples whose taste was rather bitter.
Woman so beautiful, her steps were slow,
Maybe fruits that she'd pecked might one day glow.
First look she took outstood midday
brightness.
Apples, I've poisoned, left dead birds on ground,
But none of them black, left this world with sound.
I watched how she was leaving out crow's nest.
Face down, bleak eyes, 'neath her hair blast sadness.
Crowsongs won't reverberate,
No more crowing will resound.
No less sorrow than every dime,
It's became a singing time.
