Out for the morning fast walk
I head for Crow Street as I call it
My name for the tree-lined block
On the eastern edge of the hospital
It's home for a "murder" of crows
[An absurd name for a flock!]
When I arrive and head north
They begin their raucous chorus
I watch one move from tree to tree
I'm used to this now and soon
He'll fly ahead and land facing me
And waits for me to catch up
As I do, he turns and hops
Alongside, looking at me
At the corner, I turn west
He takes off to the trees
I feel blessed. Blessed by a crow.