Crow Poem by RAVIKIRAN ARAKKAL

It felt like a black sheep,
Wept for the color it had,
Yet sheened its feathers,
Cute was its appearance,
Compact its structure,
Yet none liking its appearance,
It lived on the crumbs
People left here and there,
Keeping its presence known,
Making the nest on the branch
Of a tree in the visinity
Of humann existence
It went about teaching
Its young ones the trade
Of lifting the eatables,
The fast flight with the zigzag
Fashion in which it went about
To escape its predators
Stealers of food from its hold,
The crow did the man's
Scavenger acts, cleaning
The premises yet thankless
From the humans, generally
Disliking its nearabouts,
Often afraid what it will steal
The next time, but the crow
Was dark and beautiful,
Like a dark girl in gloss.

Ravikiran Arakkal