My Life as a Giraffe

With head held high,
I eat the grass of the sky,
Ignoring the acacias below.
I will carry my spots in tow.
But let go of my tongue
and get off the ladder rung.
You're reading a picture book!
Oh. How would it look
to the people below
you on a ladder with a crow?
Your tongue isn't long
and there are no spots in your song.
So, go read your book
in a different nook.