Knowing she was sad, eleven crows

Knowing she was sad, eleven crows

arrived with gifts:  delicate feathers

chips of quartz and granite, short lengths of red

and yellow yarn, crumpled bits of paper

all colorful, some shiny with beef tallow

others sticky and vanilla-scented.


How did they know? she wondered

as they littered her winter green lawn

with their offerings, creating a mosaic

as vibrant

as a Van Gogh night sky

or a Monet meadow.

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