Crows are just the sharpest.

They understand commerce,
give-and-take;
they know
that when someone gives you something
(like scraps of food)
they're going to want something in return.
They apprehend
that shiny things usually suffice.
 
Reception
invites reciprocation
invites repetition.
 
So they lay the bright things by,
waiting for the generous stoop-sitters
to give them a reason
to come down from the wire
and trade.


My first attempt at a dVerse prompt! This poem is a response to April 4th's "anthropomorphism" prompt. I hope I did this right!