poem of the day January 8 

At one of the rest stops

as I was driving

through spiritual

Native American lands

was a murder of crows

Mystical creatures

full of supernatural wisdom

Gatekeepers

of the arcane

One rather ominous

crow hopped up 

right next to me

with a french-fry

in its black beak

and cawed

"What are you 

staring at Carlos?

Don't you know

Don Juan loves junk food