If I Were a Poet

We stood for a few minutes,
Not saying anything,
Looking at two crows sitting on the window ledge.
They were so motionless
that we wondered if they were real.
They just sat there, mouths half open, eyes staring at us.
My wife whispered, “I think they’re fake.”
I whispered back “no, they’re real, they’re just afraid of us.”
As we walked away, I heard one of the crows say to the other one:
“I told you they were real.”