"The little hut"

Far away from us, stuck on a hill,
nobody could have seen-
the deal.
Left alone, freezing and old,
a woman awaited-
for too long.
"No movement yet", she may have thought,
there could be, still-
a little hope.
Outside, the wind hugged the snow,
small dots appeared-
above the lawn.
Tired and starved, she glimpsed again,
in the distance, a figure-
was moving ahead.
Walking slowly, looking mad,
the woman rushed out-
of the little hut.
Inside the trap, a crow got caught,
all for the old woman-
it was her work.
No other chance, not enough time,
she had to prepare fastly-
in order, for life.
She grabbed the cage, the guest was gone,
nobody was there-
wandering around.
She shut down the door, the time has come,
the crow wasn't afraid, but-
it heard a laugh.
The old woman waited enough,
the cage was opened-
no crow bursted out.
She kicked the trap, there was no meaning,
after all of it-
where was the crow hiding?
Only some acorns were inside,
but why did it happen-
during that night?!
A snow fall started, there's no going back,
some acorns could work too-
in the woman's stomach.
She bent on her knees, starting to grab,
every piece she could-
so she would survive.
Some knocks came slowly from the door,
should have the old woman-
asked for something more?
She barely could walk on the floor,
there was no time-
for opening the door.
The old woman swallowed the fare,
easier that way because-
no teeth were there.
The knocking stopped, a window opened,
for the woman it seemed like-
the guest was bothered.
The fare tasted good, but it wasn't enough,
she prayed to find more-
only to survive.
During the desperate search after food,
more snow fell on the floor-
she did all she could.
Tears appeared over the woman's cheeks,
she thought it was the cold-
could she have been sick?
She didn't stop, the window froze,
the fight with the snow-
seemed to be a loss.
She crawled to her bed, trying to forget,
about the cold, hunger-
the crow she has met...
The door finally opened, few steps were heard,
the guest probably entered-
that could take a turn.
The old woman's eyes saw the crow,
she couldn't reach it-
the crow stood above her.
The bird started to laugh,
now it was her turn-
her time to be rough.
The crow played with the woman's "nest",
pulling it, pushing it, making agony-
for the woman's rest.
It was the crow's moment to rise,
nibbling, scratching the woman-
to make her pay the price.
The old woman screamed, but all in vain,
the crow happily wished her-
all of the pain.
Some steps were heard again, closer this time,
a tall and black figure, enjoyed-
staring at the crime.
The old woman barely saw the guest,
but it was clear after all-
he didn't come to help.