Crow you cockeyed bastard
Unfold the wings that feather your simple heart
Spill those seeds of virtue,
Father Bird
Ripe with faithless lore
Scratch out a path in the dirt for us children,
Father Bird
Dark as you are,
Sharp as you are,
Youth plucks from you,
skill
Your talons miss our flesh
Miss it by a mile
I do like your style
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