Venetian

High up caw the crows,
Beneath overcast smothered sun,
On this dreary warm-in-winter day.
Unsure why they sway this way,
A cool refrain is offered you,
“We are black in gray, in blue,
And wading through your time,
Sad and pressed, no need to lie,
Tell us, listener low,
How fares your sky?”

© SXT 2023