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10:34 p.m. - 2007-10-22
-
The crow and the forest.

Caw, into dark knotted branches.
Beckon
The plummet.
Cold damp earth.
Mingled chiming tubular bells.

Bittersweet love in the taking,
the winter crawdads are
coming home to
dried up creekbeds,
and the pumpkin pie
is all too ripe
to not be syrup.

Tea leaves mingle
in the swirling masses
of shoes and coattails
waltzing on striped crosswalks,
tongues tied around buttons
and screens vibrating with life.

Tons of earth,
below,
the roots shake
and the tree steps out
and reaches
with clawed wood,
caw of raven,
in still air.

 

 

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