Looking into the breezeway, seeing a black crow
walking around, finding some food dropped on the
ground by someone.
Having eaten now, going up to a window, looking
at it's reflection, trying to get the attention
of the crow in the window.
Getting no response, tilting it's head from side
to side, so comical as I sit and watch this little
bird of Mother Nature's being curious.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem