The dead crow.

I saw a dead crow once,
under and overcast sky,ready to spill it's contents,
i wondered why did i see this crow today,was it fate or was it chance?,
i sat and i wondered,as people walked under their umbrellas like little tents,
The dusk wind seeping through the grooves of my clothes,
as virgin drops of rain,came crashing down,like wild stallions without saddles,
i sat there revealing in the moment,like sitting in a boat without paddles,
i sat beside the crow,water reaching up my shin,
and i wondered,why did this crow have to die?..
And if it did,did anyone cry?.