Crow, I saw you
black-clad cop on the beat
dive-bombing hawks, harassing eagles
making air-space safe for small fry:
goldfinch, warbler, woodpecker, swift.
Crow, save me from sorrow
fall on him like thunder, rip feathers
from his stormy wings. Win me space
to pursue my small concerns, run up tree trunks
headfirst like a squirrel.
"Not my job," he said, and pushed me
out of the tree-top. "Find the ground
or find your wings."
Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Shelter Me
Labels:
free verse,
poetry
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