For years, she fed crows at her window sill,
And they came faithfully
to feast on the pieces of bread she tossed.
The pigeons would look from a distance,
Enticed by the banquet,
Never brave enough to fly
Or even walk
A few yards to enjoy the feast.
Damn the crows, she would say
Someday the parrots will come
And eat out of my hand.
During winters
A flock of geese formed the Vee,
And flew down south.
In her neighbourhood there was a cage
Housing three squirrels,
One looked as if he was nearing the end of his life,
He slept for sixteen hours in a day,
and for the rest of the time he munched on the nuts left in the tray.
The other two ran around their prison,
Looking for a broken wire or an opening large enough
to be the key to freedom.
After an hour, the smallest rodent would join the sleepy one in munching the nuts
While the other kept running around.
Throughout the year,
parrots gorged on the fruits in the forest
That was bordered by her home.
It’s been years now,
The crows still feed on the bread.
Tomorrow, she will move to another city.
Grains of thought 
I would feed the crows and be satisfied that the smart ones fed at my window.