This Once Raven

Richard M. Ankers - Author

Under cover of darkness,

I shed these wings.

A raven no more,

N’er even a crow,

I am beaten,

Chased away

By greyscale clouds,

A storm in waiting.

My fields are taken,

The sky

From me stripped.

And I curl up in this bower

A not unpleasant haunt,

This favourite of mine,

And await death.

I shall count the feathers

As they fall,

And count the time in dusks.

This once raven

Couldn’t ask for much more.



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