216/365 Poem by Clare

I tried to feed a crow. He would not eat my speck. Such is life

This typewriter sits at the top of the stairs in Clare’s apartment building. We’d just eaten at a nearby pizza restaurant and a crow eyed us as we passed beneath the tree in which he sat. Clare tore a piece of speck off my leftover pizza and placed it near the crow’s tree. He didn’t seem interested so Clare wrote a poem about it.