The Crow

The Crow short poem

Photo by malfet_

Nature’s undertaker and cleaner of bones.
Making a meal of your vocation,
You gather your tokens from The Reaper’s table,
Peck by peck, a dissection by rip saw.

Meat, by any other name, could taste no sweeter,
And yet so tainted by grim mortality.
Hopping with glee filled anticipation,
Fussing and flapping in joyous applause.

Your cacophony draws kin to the murder,
An excitement of black comedy.
A collective destruction of flesh and sinew,
Delight in this carrion carry-on.

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Shamala Chandran

Feel happy to see a poem about a crow… many hardly notice them these days…


The Concerned Crow Above Me

The Concerned Crow Above Me short poem

The concerned crow above me poised on a green green tree and i may be asked anything ; we have all answers-something to tell, as only expected from those concerned -something to tell. caw caw caw caw with me and