Crow, the doves descending on the square
have sullied your name, cooed gossip to wealthy tourists,
their gullets stuffed with handouts, while you soar
over the oaks with dreaming clouds, with the glare
...
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Gosh, there are some awesome ideas in your words. Just had to comment, as I love poems about crows, and this one's a keeper; but it's also delicious writing.