It was a sizzlin, summer day in 1712...And, us crows were in the cornfield doing the Massa's bidding. Neverless, we took pride in our blackness/"We jazz june" /and Preened our feathers until we looked like obsidian rocks when the sun shone upon us. Yes, we remembered our regal past in Africa, and treated each crow like a sister or a brother...a son or a daughter...

....

Then one day, a dove came and lighted in our midst. That was the day that everything changed./The dove said very little. But, he conspired in secret places, and separated the lighter crows from the darker ones...the older ones from the younger ones. The crows didn't even notice the dove's trickery. But, idolized him. And, beheld the dove's whiteness as if it were the most beautiful thing they had ever seen...forgetting their own thirty two varieties/"We die soon"...

....

Many months later, the crows were in the cornfields slavin.When I, a Blackbird just like them came and showed off my same, yet different plumage. The other blackbirds turned up their noses at me in disdain/They then thrust me out of their presence. As I studied them from afar - I noticed that every specie of Blackbird was represented there...from Magpie to Raven/This made me ponder at great length why I was rejected...And, then I knew/I was a Grackle/my feathers are iridescent...reflecting the myriad shades of our color..."Your mine"/the milk and cream of it/the tan and yellow tan of it/the deep brown/high brown/the olive and ochre of it...

...The whole spectrum of Brown - ness...

All In One Race
"A Murder Of Crows"