Today's poem is by Amie Whittemore

The Crows
       

I left out a bowl of rice dressed
in violets and honey, unsure
if it was offering or temptation.

A crow appeared
on my kitchen counter
and ate it all.

The next morning the crow
returned with its flock,
shades draping the shagbark,

all of them chanting
their own names:
Crown me, called one.

Sunder, another.
Hearing its name among
those fleeing their beaks,

my heart abandoned its nest.

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Copyright © 2023 Amie Whittemore All rights reserved
from Colorado Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission