Friday, October 26, 2018
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Somewhere Crow
Somewhere Crow
has nothing
to say today
into a grey
sky promising
nothing. He flies,
wind against him,
towards a farther
darkness and road-
kill for supper.
Shelter is not
even half a
home, he knows. What
he hopes for is
sun tomorrow.
What he pushes
against, his own
unnumbered death.
