Tuesday, August 30, 2016

"The Murder of Crows"


The murder of crows had awaited the breath, that first glowing, bright crescent of dawn
From trees up above, they surveyed on the grounds, from the river to castle to lawn
They spoke of their tales of the winds and the wings, of the feathers, the beak, and the claw
Soaring above, they saw all of life, yet so little they measured with awe
The carriage they saw as it swept through the day, on its path to the castle it seemed
Another such folly they spied every day and a waste of their time so they deemed
No curious call came from beaks in the trees, not the least little thought nor disdain
It paused on its way as the door opened wide and a creature debarked on the plain
As the murder did see what it was that so graced on the steps to the grass from the hatch
A flutter of feathers disturbed all the crows and spoke boldly of beauty unmatched

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 © 2014 whickwithy


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