SPRING DAWN 



pleasure of waking them early there this 

 morning, incidentally, and vicariously, 

 waking all crow-town. Last night, just 

 as the last tint of amber was fading 

 from the sunset sky, letting a yellow- 

 green evening star come through, almost 

 like a first daffodil, a crow slipped bat- 

 wise across the amber and dropped into 

 a certain pine to roost. 



I noted the tree, and this morning, be- 

 fore hardly a glimmer of dawn had come, 

 slipped along beneath the dark boughs, 

 planning to get just beneath his tree 

 and see him first. But I had planned 

 without the obstructions in the path and 

 the uncertain light. I approached un- 

 heard on the needle-carpeted avenue be- 

 neath the big trees, but when I started 

 across the field, still twenty rods away 

 from my bird, I kicked a dry, broken 

 branch. 



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