A Crow Named Zorro

By Andrea Ellickson

The crow sneaks a french fry from the garbage bin
and dances on our rooftop—
that rascal
scrit-scratches on the tile
black feathers fanning out like a cape.

That dashing rogue,
a Zorro in his black mask
fooled us again
found the french fries
even though we hid them
deep inside the bag.

Then, our hungry hero
swoops down
for another bite
as if
we don’t know
who he really is.

Andrea Ellickson writes novels about wildfire girls, Filipino legends, and family curses. She has traveled to over 30 countries to soak up stories and chase her curiosity. She currently works in the Department of Global Studies at UC Santa Barbara, where she is eagerly awaiting a time when it’s safe to travel again. Also by this poet: "Guardians of the Sill"