Crow in the parking lot

Crows have always struck me as unnervingly large;

I encounter one in the Barnes & Noble parking lot pecking

stupidly at a balled-up sandwich wrapper.

Gusted over from the Chick-Fil-A?

It topped the foundation of the demolished
Macaroni Grill. Ventilation issues, I guess.

Brainless, I thought—with his barren beady eyes

but you know, he's instinctual

and he's probably uncovering cheese

or some delightful crumbs hidden from me.