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"The Old Cat And Old Crow" (by Joe DiMino)

The old crow
Had a taste for cat-food,
And the old cat
A taste for old crow

The cat asleep
About three feet from the dish—
The old crow hoping
On his dreamy-mind was fish;

It was a battle
Or some lethal game, who knows?
Ancient as paws and wings—
One often leaping for the sky
And the other
Still with needing of landing
For most basic things—

The old crow tiptoed so carefully—
A twitter to the cat’s left ear;
But old crows are seasoned veterans
And not quickly to fly for fear

Yet the cat’s a patient hunter,
Seeming dead when most alive—
The cat’s right lash now twittered,
The old crow had named him Sly

Suddenly a clash of thunder!

Perhaps Heaven enamored as I—

Both us respecting old critters,
For their surviving stealth is beauty;
Never fleeing from cat and crow duty—
Relieved, I sensed today, unlike any other,
None of us warriors will die—

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