It was a sizzlin, summer day in 1712, and us Crows were in the fields doin 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 Brother...A Son or 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 he Dove's Whiteness as if it were the most beautiful thing they had ever seen...forgetting their own 32 varieties/"We Die Soon"...

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Many months later, the Crows were in the cornfields slavin, when I a Blackbird just like them came an 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..."You're 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 Brownness...

All In One Race