The girl sat and worked in a well lit classroom.
Rain dripped from the trees just outside the big open windows and the crow flew in
The girl turned her head thinking it to be a fly that whizzed by her eye
It's a crow. She mused to herself.
The crow seemingly able to understand the internal monologue hopped down
from the branch onto the now brown grass and stared into her irises.
I saw you thursday, didn't I pretty bird
It walked close brandishing a brown twig it had collected and stared some more.
Snap.
The girl's body twitched as the bird walked closer then flew away without warning.
Immediately thoughts of the spirit came to her saying she was home.
She was found, and she was not alone.
How insignificant the fly, and magnificent the crow.
Does the fly ever see the crow and think itself to be the same?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem