Of course, he’s not the first Petey,
Because he would have to be over 60;
Crows don’t live that long,
Or do they?…`tis unlikely!
I still see Petey…everywhere,
Yes, everywhere…I go;
But, I’m just an old lady,
So, humor me…please do so!
I thought it was my imagination,
When, everywhere I went;
Petey…somehow got there first,
On watching over me…he was somehow bent.
My friends began to wonder,
If this were…somehow…true;
And, the more times it happened,
Their curiosity…grew and grew!
Of course, there are no records,
Because nobody has taken the time;
For who really cares about crows,
Surely nobody would record for a whole lifetime.
But, I’m beginning to think that maybe,
This is just what I should do;
Petey has followed me around for so long,
Yes, I recall all the things we have been through.
I could write a book about him,
Yes, maybe that’s what I should do;
“THE ADVENTURES OF PETEY”,
When…into my life…he flew!
So, I was sitting here…just writing,
That’s when I took a break;
And, when I returned…something had happened,
That gave me quite the shake!
Right on the chair where I had sat,
A black feather…as big as life;
I kid you not…for there it was,
Sending chills through my heart…just like a knife!
Petey had come a`calling,
While I had gone inside;
And, he left a feather…to prove it,
I was disappointed…from me…he tried to hide!
But, I did know…now…for certain,
Beyond a shadow of a doubt;
Petey was very real,
Why…he was here…and walked about!
People may look and they might stare;
They’ll probably never understand,
And, what they think…I don’t really care!
July 16, 2004
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