Crow Rosa

My most adored is a Crow
Not a Raven
There is something romantic about a Raven
Rosa is a Crow
A Crow in that she can fly like a bird
But she is earth creature
A Crow is not really a bird
There’s got to be cold days in which a Crow cannot leap into the air
Too earthy, too grounded
Real birds look to the heavens
Even Ducks, with their watermelon aerodynamics, stare into the horizon
But Crows are always looking at the ground
Her Mister Crow is always scavenging for pennies
Species mandates that Crows only mate with Crows
Crows fly out of necessity they don’t fly because they like it
They are really more beast
No more like a person
Rosa is a Crow person
I only feel her Crowing
She is always picking at me
Denuding my skeleton
Nourishing upon all that remains of my remains
Where others only see bone she beakys more to pick at
Her bickering pickering keeping my skeleton alive well beyond its life expectancy
Crow lady told me many times that I was too protective of myself
Crow lady will not leave me alone until there is no more of me

RC