Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Something to Crow About

The Merchant of Venice,
Act V, Scene 1

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended, and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection!
                                          --Wm. Shakespeare


Patchin' Solo o
Divertimento in d Op. 2

Yes, Dennis, rain can dew.

Glaze a wheelbarrow.
          I see it now.
See, too, an American Crow,
          Big fella,
High-wirin' after the rain.

White-tailed deer
Givin' me the stink-eye, and
Twitchin' their oven-glove ears at me,

Jack-rabbit hops, Once,
          Twice, and then
Ducks under my
          Glazy-day deck.
Heard no spring peepers.

Don't hear like I used to do.

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