Corvid 4/23

Crows fly, right on by,
Past the peanut lures I’ve left
In the hot sun, Sunday.
The paint on the shed is dry,
Before I noticed it cooked
In bright light, burning but
I’m only warm, in the shade,
There, no sweat, yet. These are
The days,
We’ll remember to
Forget.

© SXT 2023