Once upon a morning dreary,
I awakened bleak and bleary
Pondering a visage that was strutting to and fro.
Stealing berries from my garden;
Not so much as, “Beg your pardon;”
Causing gentle hearts to harden--how I hate that crow!
The droppings have been unrelenting.
My car is splattered and fermenting.
I feel better after venting. Sorry, Mr. Poe.
Pat D'Amico