I heard the crow at dawn again.
It awoke me from a deep slumber.
As if to chastise me for not being up already.
There is so much to do, of course.
So I sat up on the edge of the bed.
And stretched up with my hands clasped.
The sun slowly creeping itself over the window ledge
And striking my eye just so...making me squint.
The crow called again.
I must not be fast enough for him.
I stand up with a half- hearted vigor
And rub my eyes.
I proceed with with my morning routine
Skipping the harsh mouthwash today.
Again the crow.
He hurries me as if I am racing a clock.
And makes my heart beat more prominently in my chest.
What an awful call a crow has.
Incessant and prodding.
I feel as if I am being yelled at and I don't deserve that.
I cross into the kitchen and reach over the door.
To the mount that holds my ol' Winchester.
I push open the squeaking screen door.
And step outside.
Again the crow calls but this time I am rallied.
I am too slow for him, am I?
We will see about that!