Singst thou for me?

The Indian crow above,
Another,
More distinguished singer,
Amidst a fresh breeze of Sun,
And,
Bare feet upon sacred Soil.

Singst thou for whom?
Singst thou for me?

A claxon Outward;
Outside Inside.

Outside the fresh coconut-
Sanctuary.

Away! Away!

Harsh skin, road.

Thou singst not for thee!
Thou singst not for me!

Thou singst the trees,
That thee bear.

Benoît Arnaud Duval 1995

The Crows song

Philip Winchester
They sing for you and I,
They know we watch,
but pretend they care not,
a fig,a crust of bread,
the fearless fending off
of Falcons and the Harriers,
The patrol of the sky,emergency,
protecting those they appear not
to ever care about,but do.
My kind regards for your Poem
I liked it well and care enough to comment.
Philip

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