There’s a crow in this picture,
Yet he seeks to deceive.
Motionless, he stands
Pretending to be a branch, or twig.
When I turn away, he caws,
A crow’s laugh at my ineptitude.
He may have won this round,
But when the sky lightens,
I shall have my revenge.
Oh, yes, my friends,
For as the blue reveals him,
I’ll caw back so loud that he falls from his perch.
I shall have the final laugh.
I have it all planned from my hospital ward window.