The crow

The crow watched the wren in her little cage of gold.

Longed to set her free, to play with her, feel her in his hold.

One quiet day he flew down to her and easily broke the lock,

She nervously crept out of her prison and hopped onto a rock.   

The crow showed her how to fly again, feel freedom in the air,

The wren was grateful, full of joy, and for the crow began to care.   

As often as she could, she’d seek the crow out for fun,

But he was getting bored now: with her he was quite done.   

He wanted adventures on his own again, a small bird makes him slow,

So with heavy heart, she tried to return to the only life she knows.   

But her golden cage was closed to her, the door again locked shut,

She asked the crow for help, for warmth, but received only rebut.   

Uninterested in with the wren, now to he she did belong,

The crow, the corvid, predator, attacked: he was too strong.   

The crow killed the wren: squashed her heart in the speckled breast,

Then flew away alone again, without the little pest.