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.

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