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Crow Cries for his Lost White Feathers

By  Sean O ‘ Something of the Irish Kiss Tribute Band

Submitted by Ern Malley’s Cat

Back when not everything was as it is now,
there was a band of four black and white birds.
Butcherbird, Magpie, Currawong and Crow.

They each wore designs of beautiful glossy black and glowing white,
and every morning they filled the air with wonderful, colourful music.

Butcherbird was the smallest, with white on his front and neck and shoulders.
He sang with clear, floating, flute-like notes.
Magpie was bigger, with white only on his back and shoulders.
He sang with a cheerful, warm warble like a clarinet.
Currawong was larger still, with just some white on his wings and tail.
He sang with a rollicking riff like a saxophone.
Crow was the largest and he had just four white feathers, two on each wing tip.
His voice was the mellowest, with the rich resonant tones of a French horn.

The black and white band’s dawn chorus was irresistibly rousing.
The sun came up every morning to hear them sing.

But Crow was dissatisfied.
He was the blackest and glossiest of the birds, but he felt he wasn’t black enough.
He began to see his white wing tips as imperfection.
If only they weren’t there he’d be perfect, so he resolved to correct the error of nature.
He took the first of the four white feathers in his beak and plucked it out!
‘Aarrgh!’ Man that hurt! But it must be done!
He plucked the second white feather from his wing.
‘Aarrgh!’ Still, no pain, no gain!
Then the third.
‘Aarrgh!’ Nearly perfect!
The fourth and last.
Now he was completely black and he could sing to the world of his perfection.
He threw back his head and opened his lungs and beak to the sky,
but instead of his rich, mellow voice, all that came was
the most mournful cry of the forever dissatisfied.
‘Aarrgh! Aarrgh! Aarrgh! Aarrgh! Aaaaaaaaarrrgh…’