Thursday, August 25, 2016
I AM THE CROW
I am the crow that scarecrows flee from
Falling over their feet of straw
Losing handfuls of their dusty brains
Out among the ruins of cornfields dead and dying
But still inhabited by ghosts.
I am the crow that junkyard dogs howl at
As they run away in terror from the paleness
Of my face
For they know the truth: I am no ordinary crow.
I am the crow that love glances at
In midnight pools of moonlight
Screaming it's horror into my eyes
And crushing my still beating raven black heart.
For love alone knows above all things
That flee from me: This crow is not of this world
Does not belong, is not wanted here