The Crows

The Crows

They mourn and circle with respect. Surround

a fellow creature with a walk of love

until the fading light’s no longer found.

Oh, whisper, he is gone someplace above.

They wear dark suits to issue in that day,

funereal. They mutter in the gloom;

their sorrowed souls form, looking for a way

to understand why life is ended soon.

Now, sad they gather round. Their friend is gone

“Oh, never come again”, companions weep.

“Protect him since he’ll never see the sun.

Oh, circle him with love before he sleeps!”

All wing`ed creatures know when life has flown.

A kindred circle closes on their own.

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2 Comments on “The Crows”

  1. Carol
    December 29, 2017 at 7:48 pm #

    At least a 9.


  2. jacquelinecaseypoetry
    January 1, 2018 at 3:59 pm #

    Is that a 9 out of 10? Or a 9 out of 100? lol


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Frank Solanki

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