Dead Crow's Nest

I was wandering the road, only dawdling because I wished to not return home.
Clouds covered the sky like an endless gray sheet. The dull leaves rattled from the harsh wind that now stormed from the west. I should have hurried on home, but why rush? It was safer out here.
Alone.
Something fluttered above. I glance up to spy a mangy crow on a low branch. He caws like he is singing, singing to the empty world.
I smile, because I am like him. Dark and dirty, no one but myself, no limit of my life. If I could, I would fly away. But I can't. Because I am dead to this world. No hobbies, no sports, not even a best friend.
The crow caws out, but tilts his triangular head to me. His embry eyes mock my wingless ability.
"Cry out, laugh all you want," I courageously announce, "You can't break me. I am already a shatter puzzle."
I shake my head. What am I saying? This bird can't understand me. But as I walk away, he seems to be calling me.
"What do you want?" I demand as I whirl around. But the crow is not there. The wind picks up and water my eyes, but I still search the roadside. The crow is gone.
I spin around to continue my stroll, but something crunches under my feet. I jump back and gaze into the dead eyes of two baby birds in a nest. Baby crows.
That's why the crow calls. She calls for her lost family, lost love.
"I understand too," I whisper, as the crow appears on another branch, "I lost something too."
I don't bother to step forward. Instead, I bend over and pick up the fallen nest in my cold hands, staring at the poor dead birds.
"I cry for you," I mutter as I place them in the tall grass on the gravel's edge. "I just hope someone will be there to cry for me."