The crows,
They watch every twitch-
With pangs for tomorrow,
When seams unstitch
The Crows,
They haunt every thought-
As black tufts covet,
The mind grows lost
The Crows,
Huddle together-
In trees, on barbs,
They hover amongst us,
Refurbishing scars
The Crows,
Lay in wait,
Patiently lurking-
In the shadows, on the vines,
Anticipating the certainty of fate’s design
The crows,
They talk in tongues,
Heard by many, understood by few,
They communicate-
In cackled precision,
Garnering confusion,
With voice and tone,
Layered shrills peak and drown-
Until understanding cannot be found
Yet the voice of their leader-
Matriculates to all,
Through detailed construction-
The blackest plans befall
The crows,
They follow every crack,
Awoken by footprint-
As they position for attack
And attack your garbage they do, a big mess does ensue. They are quite interesting to watch though, people see them as dumb, but they are much smarter than one gives them credit for. Really described them well, in the tale you tell.
ReplyDeleteCool write!
ReplyDeletePat, yeah we started putting our garbage inside the garage a while back, as birds, squirrels and the occasional raccoon would get into it. Glad you enjoyed the write. Thanks again
ReplyDeleteMama Zen, thanks for stopping by, always a pleasure to see new faces around here. Hope you decide to stop by again. Really glad you liked the write, thanks
ReplyDeleteamazing, ;)
ReplyDeletenicely done and congrats on Inspiration speaks... I am in it as well.
ReplyDeletecheck out short story slam week 8,
ReplyDeleteyou may come up with something cool based on the image.
bless you.
Blackswan, Congrats, Now I know 3 people in it, that's amazing. Glad you enjoyed this poem as well, thanks:)
ReplyDelete