I haven’t written a poem in quite some time, years actually, so this will surely be read as a poor attempt. Don’t be too harsh in your opinions, honest but not too harsh. I’m fragile yah know. 🙂
Crumbs For Crows
Thoughts dropped
Leavings
The wipe of a mouth
Crumbs
Damned falling bits of things
A crow’s right
—
We sit on lightposts
Signposts
Timeposts
Waiting
Watching
Hover busy highway or
Lonely humble back otherway
Sometimes with a God’s wink snark as you pass underneath
Overpass
Or around the long way
With a caww’s call
To friends
In just not enough light
—
We sit on lawns, flitting away’s easy flight of raised hand only to return
Sifting through around mad divide, anger a thing these days
We sit on sideways with defiance to remind
We even cousin famous sit in old haunting odes, though this isn’t one of them
We sit waiting ask just what is your crumb’s point
Get it right and we won’t pick you clean
… bones
No muddle middles
Just get it right
… bones
Pick you clean
—
We sit and figure how to use small stones to build things
Beyond you
We are here there to best you
We’re still
Were still
Are still
Will still
Knock knock
Doors
While we wait … always waiting …
—
We got those leavings,
Those thoughts
Crumbs
Crumbles
Crumbling
Picking, pecking
And we dance
Over them
In sideslide Crow clack steps
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